In the Eye of the Enemy
by KSimonT-X
Summary: Seven years after Apocolypse, war between human and mutant has ravaged the world and only the X Men of the past and a team of futurestic mutant warriors can save the human race from total annihilation. Jott, Romy, Kiotr, Wandurt, BetsyWarren, Loro
1. Prologue

_It is the year 2007. _

_Planet Earth, once a thriving ecosystem and biosphere of life, people, and a civilization in a golden age of discovery, is now a barren wasteland. Cities lie in ruins, law and order have all but vanished, and over 2 billion citizens of the world are dead. In the span of only a few years, a world that was once home to countless species of flora and fauna has been devastated beyond recognition, and Mankind itself, the once dominant species of Earth is slowly becoming endangered._

_Seven years earlier, mutants, the next evolutionary step in human development into a whole new race, were exposed to the world, marking a new age for the species of man. But, as often happens, the fears and uncertainties of the human race overshadowed their judgment. Seeing this new breed of people as a threat to civilization, the world instantly feared and hated mutants, denouncing them as freaks of nature and abominations._

_This growing tension and fear between mutants and their non-powered human brethren created havoc and chaos in countless cities around the world. All this time, several mutant teams, the X-Men and their arch adversaries, the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and the Acolytes, were battling each other, each side driven by sheer determination to overpower the other. Professor Charles Xavier, leader and founder of the X-Men, dreamed of peace between man and mutant. Eric Magnus Lensherr and his two opposing forces of the Brotherhood and Acolytes only saw mutants having a chance to be free by enslaving the rest of humanity. But as chance would have it, neither of these visions would come to pass. Ironically, it would end with enemies becoming allies._

_One fateful day, the 5,000-year-old mutant En Sabah Nur attempted to use advanced technology from the 40th century to remake the world in his own image and make all people mutants, over whom he would enforce his murderous and insane Darwinist philosophy of "Survival of the Fittest." In the end however, the combined heroic efforts of the X-Men and their allies foiled the ancient mutant's plot, sending him spiraling through the cracks of time in the hopes he would never again come back to haunt them._

_Over the course of the year following the events of that day, some unexplained phenomena occurred. Strange attacks were occurring among both humans and mutants. People were found dead, their life drained as if by mystical means, mutants found lifeless and drained of their powers. The life energy of the world was being taken away, and finally ended with the mysterious force attacking the president of the United States. It was because of this never-explained event that the human race finally decided to exterminate mutants once and for al, believing mutant terrorists to be behind the whole ordeal. Using the most state-of-the-art technologies and advanced genetic sciences, the U.S. government retaliated with robotic weapons and viral warfare that eventually raged out of control, causing untold destruction around the world. _

_Now, in two-dozen mining/prison/research facilities scattered across the globe, mutants are being held prisoner, being experimented on and being forced out mine out the metal and mineral resources of a planet that is slowing dying. Human military forces and robotic patrols scout the lands, seeking out any mutants who have managed to avoid being caught. Termination camps lie in wait, awaiting the next round of mutants to execute. _

_However, hope remains, for an army of mutants and still-loving humans have banded together. Originating from a vast top-secret city complex equipped with state of the art weapons, technology, and resources as a base of operations and led by Charles Xavier and Eric Lensherr, this steadily growing army is struggling to restore order in a world ravaged by war where humanity doesn't exist. With only minimal expectations of victory, they continue to fight the on-going war to a desperate attempt to escape the stranglehold of the human oppressors and restore order._

_But the biggest questions remain unanswered. What was the event that caused this? Why did it happen? Who was responsible for it? How was it achieved? For most, these mysteries will never be solved. But yet, they hold the key. For if these questions are answered and a way is found to overcome them, then the event that has caused this dark, destruction-plagued future may never occur. Where do the answers lie? The past holds the truth. _


	2. The XMen AXT

Greetings to you all! Here is the first chapter of my story "In the Eye of the Enemy." This story is very much Sci-Fi as well as Action/Adventure/Suspense, but there is also plenty of romance involved as well. You will probably be surprised at how the X-Men first appear in this fic, but rest assured, the original X-Men of the Evolution universe are not far away. This fic was inspired by a lot of stories, video games, and movies I have seen, played, and read in the past, _Terminator Trilogy_, _Battlefield Earth_, _Days of Future Past_, _Demon in my View_ by Raven2687, _Metroid Prime 1_ and _2_, _Judgment Day _by Scribbler and _Underground Resistance X_ by simba317 to name a few.

Here is to the reviewers of my prologue:

**jOttlUvEr**: Nice to meet you! I'm so glad you are finding what I have written so far enticing! Rest assured, this story will be quite intense as well. I look forward to seeing what you think about this first chapter of this work!

**Agent-G**: Not one for dark futures huh? Well, I can understand that. No hard feelings. In response to your statement about time travel, yes, there will be that, but it's a long way down the road. The people whom I will send back through time are one of the biggest twists in this story! Peace out!

**Slickboy444**: It's you again, one of my favorite authors and one of my most encouraging reviewers! I love hearing from you Slicky! Yes, this fic is a dark one, but it has a very complex storyline as well as a twisted and warped future and past for the X-Men of the Evolution universe. All the pairings I mentioned are the major ones, and I figured an X-Men fan of your caliber would appreciate having them all in the same story! However, there will be some others as well, even though they will not be as big. I'm still deciding on the Logan/Ororo couple. I may or may not do it. I look forward to reading your review! Also, you've made some new versions of X-Men in your fics. Well, here is my first attempt at making a new version of the X-Men!

**Silvia Ammons**: One of my most enthusiastic reviewers! I know this one may seem slower, but I still writing this one, the other, I'm simply redoing over. But I plan to go for this one too! I'm sure you'll like it! Your words drive me like fuel does fire!

So, without further adieu, here is Chapter One, where I shall introduce you all to my own original version of the X-Men, the X-Men AXT!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The X-Men AXT**

_Nevada Desert, U.S.A., 2007_

Night had fallen across the vast, sandy, rocky landscape of the Nevada desert, and the night itself was vast. The desert itself was of forbidding presence. The air was eerily quiet and no wind was shifting the sands with the magic effect of erosion. The dark inky black night sky filled the overhead view with a dark void filled with stars and a crescent moon that curved like a silver scimitar, as if the sky god who ruled the night was revealing the weapon with which he would strike down those who displeased him.

But there was one thing about the scene that proved that something was going on. And the something was not of the pleasant type, or the humane type either. In truth however, there were several indicators of some presence that wasn't of the natural nocturnal animal world, but of a kind even the mightiest animal predator would be afraid to approach.

Here the desert wasn't flat, but rather filled with hills and rocky ridges. And in addition, the ground here was rich in minerals and metals that geologists had failed to discover from some unknown reasons in pervious decades. And that itself was one of the reasons why activity was going on.

Along the valley floor, on a treaded down road that bore only the most vaguest resemblance to a paved road that so many people years earlier had taken for granted, a massive machine was moving. The machine was big, large, and also heavily armored. It was twice as long as a city bus and had enough power to find traction on even the slipperiest surface. It moved along on big tank like treads that dug into the rough rocky ground as intense lights pierced the darkness in front of it so that the driver could see where he was going.

Being pulled along behind the massive machine were trailers. Prison trailers. Each one itself was like a multi-cell prison. Each one had 24 holding compartments on board. And a mutant prisoner occupied each and every one of them. And it could be heard too, by the continuous moans and groans of pain and misery that resulted from being in so small a space for so long. The walls separating the prisoners were titanium bars and the outer walls were made of space age plastic over a foot thick that couldn't be punctured even with a grenade explosion. And this, one could clearly see the horribly beaten mutant prisoners inside. Their bodies were covered with welts, bruises, and cuts and their clothes were nothing more than tattered rags, which was a clear sign that they had been brutally beaten. Each prisoner bore a collar around his or her neck, a silver collar with several blue lights on it that blinked continuously. It was through these collars that their powers were nullified, rendering them unusable. And without powers, there was nothing they could do to escape.

Several groups of human soldiers flanked along side the massive prisoner transporter. Each of them was dressed in a white and black military uniform, black combat boots, a bulletproof vest, and a helmet equipped with night vision goggles. Each one also carried a large weapon that housed several deadly tools of destruction. It could either fire a pulse wave to stun a target with extreme force, a plasma cannon to kill potentially lethal prisoners, and a net launcher to snare a target like a fish in the sea. And finally, bringing up the rear were two groups of specialized vehicles that hovered in the air, as if defying gravity. In addition, each one was armed with twin laser cannons, and had a black uniformed commando at the controls.

But the real scary part of the whole picture was looming up ahead three miles into the distance. A huge structure, towering high into the sky and spreading out for a least two miles in every direction from side to side loomed at the far end of the valley, a monstrous menacing image that seemed to originate from the depths of hell itself. The lights that dotted the huge structure made it seem like an entire city built into a single building. Surrounding the monstrosity were tall thick walls all around the base, towers and search lights at various locations on it, always on the look out for trouble. And finally there were the air patrol units and assault vehicles that flew around the place, their searchlights making them seem like demonic fireflies in the night as the menacing construction made up their hive. The mutants feared going to this place, for if a mutant ever went into this place, he would most likely never leave it alive.

It was one of the notorious Compounds that were stationed at various locations around the world. And the name was apt in every sense of the word. The towering structures were maximum-security prisons for mutants, and also labor camps and research facilities for scientists. They even had a wing in them that was where research and genetic experiments were conducted.

Life in a Compound was pure hell according to all legends. And that was just the kind of metaphor everyone used, even those who ran the hellish prisons. Mutants were treated like animals there. In a Compound, a prisoner had no identity whatsoever. He or she was merely given a prison designation, which consisted of a letter from the Greek alphabet and a number that was tattooed on the upper arm in a non-toxic liquid metal so that it would never fade.

The typical day in such a location consisted of a getting up as early as four in the morning and working virtually nonstop until midnight. The Compound was built at the base of a large mountain range where prisoners mined the minerals and metals. The grueling labor was horrible to say the least and it was also backbreaking to anyone.

But the part that everyone feared the most about the Compound was the laboratory wing of the complex. It was here that scientists and torturers used mutant prisoners as guinea pigs in painful genetic experimentation. The main goal of each lab wing in each Compound around the world was to find a means of destroying mutants by developing a mutant-targeting biogenic weapon. The previous attempt at such a feat, the "Miracle Virus" as it had been called, had ended in catastrophe. The Miracle Virus had not been properly tested, nor had it been thoroughly researched or carefully thought through of all the potential harm it could cause. As a result, it had killed all manner of life when it had been released. Only via special viral destroying agents did humanity manage to contain the dreaded plague before the entire world was wiped out. Plants and animals alike perished from it, then humans and many mutants as well. The Miracle Virus's name was clearly the opposite of what it came to be. Now, the search of a true weapon was on.

However, there was one part about the labs that the mutant prisoners feared above all else. There were some mutants, whom were carefully selected from the Compound population, were chosen to be "Hounds" or "Hunter Dogs." Brainwashed and drugged into total loss of self and identity, Hounds were mutant prisoners who were always obedient. Using their own mutant powers, which were of a specific type, their tasks were to track down other mutants and lead the military to them, pointing the way like bloodhounds would for a hunter.

Hunter Dogs were mutants who were given specific drugs and neural-surgery that made their aggressive impulses and tendencies become uncontrollable. As a result, they would try to attack anyone they encountered, even other mutants. In this way, they were used as tools to soften up targets and make them vulnerable. And with special devices implanted in their nervous systems, the human military could "shut them off" with the mere touch of a button.

The world itself was coming apart, both for mutants and humans. For mutants, it was a fight just to stay alive. Rights and freedom would have to come later on. And for humans themselves, there were two wars. One side was the humans how had sided with mutants, hoping to stop the terror that had ransacked the world. They consisted of all kinds, mutant-sympathizer groups, scientists, doctors, even quite a large number of military soldiers from all branches. And of course, there were the families of mutants who had joined the freedom movement.

The majority though, was the side of humanity that saw mutants as a bane. They far out-numbered the mutant resistance freedom movement, but so far, neither side was really gaining the advantage over the other they so desperately needed. If neither side won soon, the end victory could very well be hollow.

* * *

Atop a sharp ridge that was on one side of the valley, several figures were carefully watching the prisoner transport unit dragging the mutant prisoners off to a fate worse than death. They had all seen this many times before and this would not be the last time either. 

This prisoner transport was clearly unaware that itself and its cargo was under observation from an unknown force. And that was how that force wanted to be. Unknown. And it was. Except to itself.

The group consisted of six individuals; half of them men and the other half were women. They were all wearing slick gold and red and black uniforms that were each unique from one another, while one of them, a young woman like long dark hair, had an almost all red costume that had only a little back or gold. Their eyes were carefully observing the sight before them with the type of eyesight and sharpness that only a bird of prey on the look out for a kill might be able to equal. And in a way that's what they were. And if this operation would turn out any way that they were expecting, a kill would definitely happen.

This was nothing original. Nothing totally unpracticed. But it was nothing totally predictable either. There was always margin for error in any scenario, no matter how sharply the kinks and glitches were ironed out. If you lived life with the X-Men AXT, short for their self-appointed title _X-Men Adventure Extreme Team_, trial and error was most often fatal.

"Is that our target, Scott?" asked Jean Grey, her very long flaming red hair blowing in the cool desert breeze.

Scott Summers carefully looked for the transports' identification numbers printed on the right-hand side of the motorized head through his hi-tech infrared binoculars. He and his team had been asked to look for Transport Unit 7583. This was it.

"That's it, Jean," said the young field leader, "According to the data our agents managed to get to St. Genosha told the Nevada Compound was scheduled to receive a new shipment of prisoners and laborers for the mines. It was scheduled to arrive at approximately this time. That's definitely our target." Scott brought down his binoculars, revealing a pair of eyes that could have looked human had it not been for the bright ruby crimson color of the irises. He brought up the binoculars again, trying to see every single part of this situation he could see.

Sure enough, as he had expected, there was an increased number of soldiers flanking the transport. The security for transport units was being increased. No surprises there. The X-Men AXT had managed to deliver several successful attacks at certain points over the past few weeks and the effect was starting to take hold. Security was steadily increasing, as a simple math equation of reason. More successes on the enemy side, increase your ranks to compensate.

Scott carefully observed the groups of security personnel. They were there alright and from the looks of it, most were young men and women in their physical prime. Their night vision helmets were hiding their expressions, but Scott knew that they were listening to the cries of anguish from the prisoners, and more than likely reveling in it. That thought alone was enough to make Scott want to puke with disgust.

Each human solider had what was called a Tri-Fold rifle, the main handheld weapon of the humans' mutant termination squads. And on their backs he saw their secondary tool, a large gun that had a mini gun like barrel and a large ammo storage mechanism attached to multiple points on the frame. Those were lethal rapid cluster weapons that fired 50-caliber uranium slug bullets at super high velocities, and could hold up to 5000 rounds of ammunition at a time. They were obviously well armed. And of course, there were the hover cycles in the back motorcycle-like machines that cold fly over rough terrain as easily as a bird flew through the air. Any mutant being chased by a commando on a hover cycle wouldn't get far at all unless they had teleportation or super speed in their arsenal.

Prisoners in cages, beaten, starved, and tortured. A death camp waiting just up ahead. Mutant-hating ignorant foolish soldiers guarding them. Was humanity anywhere these days other than in St. Genosha? How low was the dark side of the human race falling?

"See anythin' else, Homme?" asked the man immediately to Scott's right. Remy Lebeau was gauging their targets carefully through his red on black eyes. His fighting staff was currently in its mobile mode, the extendable length of it short enough to fit into his belt under his midnight black trench coat. But it could be whipped out and extended to fighting mode in the blink of an eye if Remy so wanted to do it.

"Yeah, we've got several guard units down there armed to the teeth with weapons. At least thirty five on each transport unit" said Scott, still watching the parading units marching towards their destination, "And from the looks of it, they've added security to their numbers. I think they're increasing their ranks."

The next one in the group to speak was Kurt Wagner, who was standing near Wanda Maximoff. "Zhey're are probably adding more men since ve took out zhat last military outpost in Colorado last veek," said Kurt, "That must mean ve're making progress."

Wanda was listening to Kurt as well, but she couldn't feel as optimistic about that line of logic as she would probably want to. True, there was no victory that was considered small in the X-Men AXT. However, for each victory, there was a defeat to come sooner or later. The ratio was infallible.

"So we definitely got a fight on our hands, no?" asked Remy unnecessarily, who was noticing for not the first time how it felt to walk around with a trench coat with the pockets empty. He used to carry deck after deck after deck of playing cards in his pockets, but every since he and the rest of the X-Men AXT had had their mutant "upgrades" he no longer needed ammunition to charge up.

"Yah think that after all the times we've been through this, Sugah, you've have figured we have one on our hands almost every time," Rogue, as she was known to everyone, spoke up in her southern voice. Remy looked over the young woman near him, and smiled that oh-so-charming smile of his that he used to use to drive any woman around him nuts with a crush.

"I'm well aware of that, Chere," said the Cajun, "I just like to be sure, just like always."

Rogue wasn't sure of how to respond about that, but she simply smiled at Remy and flashed her long lashes at him, all the while patting his hand with her own ungloved hand, something her "upgrades" had managed to grant her, like Scott's had relieved him of the need to wear ruby-quartz eye protection. However, she quickly turned back to the others.

"Ah think now is the perfect time to get 'em, Scott," said Rogue, "There's a tall wall of rock blocking the view from the Compound. And besides, if we're any closer to the Compound when weh attack, we'll be spotted by their HKs."

HKs, or Hunter/Killers as their full designations went, were the main air patrol unit of the humans' robotic forces. They were like a combination of Cobra Combat Chopper and B-2 Bomber Jet, with a few things on the side. As their name implied, they were designed to track down any life form that could be registered as a mutant and destroy it, and they had more than enough tools for the job. They had rapid laser cluster guns, heat-seeking missile launchers, attack nets, and a few other things. In addition, they were fully automated and all shared an uplink to a specific control center located at the top of the compound that was three miles away. If one HK was destroyed, the command center would immediately know about it and send word to other HKs in the area, making them home in on the last location of the destroyed one that had sent out the distress call. If you destroyed an HK, you could have a dozen more on you in minutes.

"You're right, Rogue," said Scott, looking over at her from his position behind the ridge they were hiding behind, "Now's the time." He looked over to Jean.

"Jean, you better tell the others now's the time to attack," said Scott.

The lovely redhead nodded and tapped the communications device on her wrist. A _beep, beep, beep_ sound emanated from the small machine, no louder than a tapping of a foot on a floor.

"Phoenix to Storm," said Jean into the communicator, "Storm, you copy?"

"Affirmative, Phoenix," came Ororo "Storm" Munroe's voice over the carefully masked com signal, "What's your status?"

Jean's green eyes trailed down to the pack of soldiers flanking the big armored transport like motorcycle attendants for a big limousine. So far, they were all moving forward like nothing was wrong. Reaching out with her telepathy, she could tell they all thought that nothing was going down. How wrong they were.

"We're in position," Jean answered, "Scott says we need to strike now, or else we'll be spotted by the HKs in this area."

"I understand," said Ororo.

"Then it's time to act."

* * *

Ororo Munroe was only mildly anxious. But rest assured that would increase once the operation began. This was the calm-before-the-storm moment. The calm was when the human soldiers down below would expect nothing of particular threat to happen as they were making their way towards the Compound. The storm? Well, that was when these bloodthirsty human grunts would see how poorly equipped they were to handle mutants with trained powers, which were also enhanced through means that you could never truly comprehend if you were not an expert in the field of genetic mutation. But then again, getting these bastards out of the way and then freeing the poor prisoners still trapped inside was only about one fifth of this whole operation. And each "fifth" of any operational fraction was more dangerous than the one prior to the last. 

This sort of job was known as an ISS operation, or an Infiltrate/Sabotage/Salvation operation. In such an operation, the main goal was to get inside the target building, which in this case was the compound. Get inside the place, sabotage it so that the humans and the robotic security forces had trouble doing their job, if they were able to do it at all, and finally, get out with whatever it was you broke in to find. Well, that sort of category was the true formula for almost every mission that the X-Men AXT went on. But, while the basic layout and formula remained the same, the parts themselves varied as much as mutant powers did from mutant to mutant.

Sometimes the target that they infiltrated was a military munitions storage facility, sometimes it was a processing assembly plant where the sentinels and the robot forces were built and upgraded, and sometimes, it was the Compounds themselves. The sabotage part was really the same all the way, just shut off or destroy the components that stood in your way, such as the mainframe of surveillance complex or the security system. Finally, there was the part about the prize you got away with as a result of the mission going successfully. It could vary a lot as well. It could have been maybe the secret data stored there, which could help out at St. Genosha headquarters, the important technology that was always being looked after until it was ready for use, the prisoners of a labor camp that needed to be freed. But more often than not, it was simply your own life.

"It's time to being phase one of the plan," said Ororo, looking over her shoulder to the people behind her. Like her, they were dressed in gold and red and black uniforms, the three identification colors of X-Men AXT, and they all bore the same identification logo, which consisted of a golden X on a black background, on the buckles of the golden belts or on triangular shoulder pads on each shoulder. Most had the logo in one place or the other. Some had it in both places on their costumes.

They all nodded to her, signaling their readiness. Ororo nodded back to let them know she knew, then turned back to the patrols down below.

She reached out one of her dark-skinned hands, clad in a fingerless black glove, a bright white glow suddenly intensifying around her hand. At the same instant, an eerie, ghostly white glow appeared in her eyes.

* * *

Lieutenant Joss Silverson was really annoyed and irritated, and if she didn't get to dish out some her aggression, she was sure to burst from sheer aggressive impulses. She was good at her job. That much she was wiling to admit, but the things that were really getting on her nerves were the constant bickering of mutants in the slave-holding cells groaning and gasping for breath. 

_I should be doing what I was meant for_, he thought to herself, _not looking after some mutie prisoners like a farmer looks after shit-smelling pigs in a pen. _Good gods, what was ever going to be relief from all this overtime work on minimal pay for the hard working soldier?

This ordinary routine of daily mutant hunting was really of a predictable pattern. When there really was some action involved in the game of cat-and-mouse against mutants, there was no real threat. She sometimes wondered just how much she was wanting to go for some real hard-core dangerous action where the risk of getting hurt or even fatally harmed was up their in the high probability range. But for the past several days of being on the constant lookout for mutants that were doing nothing less that dirty the world with their mistake of nature genetic codes, it was easy to bag them. It was really starting to get on her nerves.

_If work gets boring, don't waste your time._

Silverson merely looked around her, only shifting her eyes as to not display she was not concentrating on the task at hand. Anything other than watching the slave transport and the road head that led to the Compound was nothing short of insubordination in the book of the hard-assed military leaders who ran this whole business. Piss them off, kiss your career good-bye.

The only thing that Silverson could really care to look at was the pitiful excuses of human beings who were pleading with their eyes to be let out of their cells. She stole a quick glance to the trailer she was near. And sure enough, she saw what she had expected, what she had known, to see. The bodies were there. Most were standing but only just. Others were collapsed in the cells where they remained is weird positions that were so cramped up and awkward that there was no way some who wasn't drop-dead exhausted could stand being in them for very long.

If Silverson could have had any sort of satisfaction at all, she would have taken it from merely being there to do the job that God had put her on this Earth to do. Which was probably clearing up the mess that Mr. Almighty and Omnipotent had put here in the first place, the polluting mutant gene that had turned the pure human gene pool into a contaminated soup of freakish mutie broth.

"Why can't we just shot these damn muties where they stand?" she heard the voice of Lieutenant Judas Ravencroft.

Silverson was really itching to shoot off a few mutants, but Ravencroft was really just a blabbermouth who wanted some action. Protocol meant next to nothing to him as long as there was a chance for some action. But being around soldiers who disregarded authority for simply the thrill of the kill made you wonder just how many levels there really were to commitment in the armed forces.

What happened next however, was something Silverson didn't expect, nor anyone else in their unit. The air around them, which was previously crystal clear and still, for their wasn't a single cloud in the desert night sky. The air suddenly grew moist, which didn't seem plausible since it was already dry herein thedesert, even at night. But yet, fog was coming, and it wasn't just coming, it was APPEARING all around.

Just like that, out of nowhere, the heavy veil was spring up to life all around them as if Mother Nature had just decided to cast this pea soup recipe into her pot of natural phenomena.

The others around Silverson were aware of this too, for they as well were suddenly caught off guard my the sudden appearance of the fog. And the fog was also thickening and it was becoming harder and harder to see anything. But what the hell was causing it?

But in just that same instant there was something else as well, but it wasn't seen, it was heard right in the heat of an instant. And everyone heard it.

The sound was no ordinary desert music of nature, but a huge burst of noise. And it was the sign of something big. Frankly, something big was going down. The soldiers saw flashes of light that were striking the vehicle they were swore to protect and it was heating up hugely. The colors of the flashes themselves were big and frightening, for they were bright red and yellow bursts, and they were destructive blasts as well.

The flashes were casting enormous bang explosions all around. In fact, it was explosions in the true sense.

The officers were scattering now, trying to get away from blinding mist as well as the terrible blasts so that they could see what was causing it all. Whatever it was, it sure as hell didn't want them to be near the transport they were supposed to be.

Silverson, Ravencroft, and a multitude of others stumbled out of the fog. All of them were raising their rifles and firearms, cause they were going to make sure those who interfered with their schedules was shown how to pay for it out of their own hide and no one else's. Backing away, all of them could see the other transport was having the same problem, for there were the telltale signs of lights blinking on and off, meaning that soldiers were struggling to activate the vision lights and laser sightings on their weapons, probably to make sure they could hit a target they could see more or less.

A bizarre flash of light suddenly diverted the attention of the soldiers over to the sandy ground that was beyond the reach of the fog, which everyone had realized had formed only around the transports themselves. That was a surer sign than any that this was clearly not natural fog. And that meant one thing. Foul play.

The soldiers saw that standing in front of them were four figures, all of them dressed in black and red and gold uniforms. One as a tall young man in his mid twenties with brown hair, but his eyes were glowing bright red. In addition, both his hands were up as if he was holding something, which he was. Strange glowing spheres of red energy were in each of his hands, like fireballs. There was also a tall slender redheaded woman with green eyes who had her fingers up to her temples. Then there was a brown haired man, who bore the strangest red on black eyes, in a long black coat and holding a long silver Bo in a way that indicated he was more than skilled in using it. And lastly, there was what looked like a demon, with bright blue skin and hair, golden eyes, and strange elf-like ears as pointed as the end of dagger. In addition, it had a long prehensile tail, and three fingers on each hand and two toes on each foot. This creature was armed with a long sword, which it was holding out in front of it like a Jedi would in the Star Wars universe. And in addition, it had another sword in a sheath on its back, and two long combat daggers in sheathes fixed to its boots. All four of the individuals had stoic stares, yet an aura on them that made more than few of the soldiers intimidated.

_Oh man! This is really not a good night to be on patrol! _

The shit had hit the fan big time! These were members of the notorious X-Men AXT. They were the major foes of this war, and were the cause of all the problems in the world other than other mutants being out here. These mutants, these terrorists, outlaws, whatever the hell you wanted to call them, were pretty much the worst type of criminals any person could imagine. And on top of that, they possessed superhuman powers that gave them more than enough terror and mayhem to throw at you.

"MUTANTS!" a lieutenant bellowed out loud "X-MEN MUTANTS!"

Without hesitation, every single soldier in the group brought up their weapons and started firing.

* * *

Private Mack Gargon heard the word before he could register the whole scenario. Why hadn't he seen this coming like he was trained to? Fog appears, it only surrounds where you are, then explosions of unnatural color drive you out of it and then it clears. How stupid was he becoming? 

Gargon hastily looked for the switch that would activate the laser sightings on his weapon. He continued to flick switch after switch, hoping to get the right one the next time he flipped one. Why did these guns have to have so many switches in so many places?

The confused and disoriented soldier felt another soldier slam into him from behind, probably from not being able to see where he was. The force was driven by panic, that much Gargon could guess without even thinking about it. Hell he just knew it right from the start. He also knew he was lying face down on the ground, and was looking at the booted lower legs of his fellow Anti-Mutant Squad members. He was in a position that was dangerous enough to not ignore. If he didn't stand up, he would be trampled for sure.

Gargon struggled to climb to his feet and regain his stance to defend himself, but this was really starting to become a human stampede. But he managed to regain his balance. All around him he heard cries and shouts of soldiers saying that mutants in the X-Men AXT were close by. Maybe even on the top of their heads.

Gargon quickly brought up his weapon, just as he stumbled out of the fog. And then he saw them. Four figures standing just outside the mist, awaiting the soldiers to stumble out so they could see them. He recognized their uniforms at once, these were those mutant soldiers from the resistance alright. He saw a very tall, massively muscled man who looked like his entire body was made of mobile metal, for it gleamed and shimmered in the moonlight like a bar of silver as he moved. He also saw a tall woman with long purple hair and purple eyes, who was holding what looked like two long samurai swords made of bright purple light.

Gargon immediately saw his associates raise their weapons to attack, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw soldiers looking in another direction. Looking over to that place, he saw two more mutants wearing X-Men AXT uniforms. One was a very big, very muscular tall African-American with long dreadlocked smoky dark hair and short trimmed beard and mustache who was armed with a large plasma rifle and had two additional hand weapons in his belt. But the golden glow in one of his eyes indicated he was armed with more than just that. The other mutant was young man who looked like his entire body was made of transparent crystal, which gleamed and sparkled like quartz and diamond.

Alright, this was the hardest part yet. Which one should Gargon aim for? This was almost like a little kid trying to chose which flavor ice cream he wanted at the frozen yogurt shop. Jezz, these mutant attacks were really complicated procedures. Gargon made a mental note to not volunteer for this job again until he was at least a lieutenant.

Gargon turned back to the other group, trying to decide which one was closer to him. But no sooner did he turn his head did he see the two-foot long spear of purple energy flying towards him. The strange missile struck Gargon, and the effect was instantaneous. The effect raged across his nervous system like fire through dry grass. Each neuron was now charged to peak with some stimulating charge, then it all neutralized and took his synaptic energies along with it.

The last thing Gargon could see before he fell into mental darkness was the face of the purple haired women looking right at him with a smile of triumph, meaning she was the one who had taken him out.

_Look out guys. She's gonna take you down._

* * *

The entire windshield was fogged up with moisture. How the hell did that happen out in the middle of Dryville? The driver of Transport Unit 7583 was completely blinded by the fogged up glass. He couldn't even see what was a few inches in front of him on the other side. But it wasn't the poor visibility that was making him uneasy, it was what caused it. 

Out of the ordinary was best way he could think of to describe it. How could he really explain it when nothing was going as it should. Right now everything was gong wrong and all.

He immediately tried fumbling with the controls. He reached for the radio control on the main control pad in front of him. He had to signal his other troops and perhaps alert the Compound he was driving towards. That Compound was three miles away, but he had to do something to get out of this mess!

A strange sound, like some weird whisper and phase of light, reached his ears. But he couldn't place what type of sound it was. Pretty much any sound he could think of, yet nothing would click into place with this bizarre call of sonic vibration. But what he did realize was that it was coming from the right-hand side of the cockpit of the transport. And that was when he looked to see what was causing.

A young woman, whom he guessed to be twenty-three or twenty four years of age with long brown locks and sparkling blue eyes was sitting in the seat right there. But what the driver really noticed was the attire she was clad in. A sleek form-fitting red, gold, and black uniform, bearing a golden belt and shoulder pads that all held a large gold X on a pure back background.

She also wore a mischievous, sly smile.

Before the driver could even think of responding, or wondering how the hell she got into the cockpit without using any conventional means of entry, the girl reach out towards the radio panel that he had tried to reach for moments ago. But, instead of pressing any buttons, she reached _inside_ the panel.

That's right, she was reaching inside the panel. Her hand, which he now noticed, no longer looked like a human hand at all, but now like a strange three dimensional silver-white construction of light in the shape of a hand, had entered the metal casing as easily as human hand moves through empty air. And not only that, but then the entire panel started to spark and smoke. Sparks crackled along the buttons and switches as the girl pulled her hand along the other controls, making them spark and short out as well. The entire dashboard was suddenly smoking and useless.

_Mutant alert! Get your ass out of there now! _

Suddenly, there was a loud squeak and then a slicing sound right above him. It was like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard followed by a puncture similar to a nail being driven through a plate of aluminum.

A huge set of claws, three in all as he counted were right in right of him, were moving with tremendous speed as they were cutting through the top of the cockpit. The top layer was over a foot thick, yet judging from the speed of the claws, they were cutting the metal like a red-hot knife cuts butter.

The large circular cut was then pulled up and then peeled back like the skin of a banana. And the face the driver saw next almost made him faint from sheer terror.

Looking down at him, teeth bared in a wolf-like snarl, was a big, blurry, muscular man with wild blue-black hair and hint of stubble on his chin and cheekbones.

Before the massive fist that would feel more like a metal ball coated in concrete hit the driver unconscious, he was sure he heard the brunette girl beside him say, "Good work, Wolverine."

* * *

The first bullet fired at the X-Men AXT mutants was like a biological catalyst to the other soldiers. The sound, the sudden bang and then gone just as quickly, made their fingers squeeze the triggers of their massive firearms. The bullets were now flying like lethal flies that only knew how to fly in a single straight line. 

Scott Summers was already charging up his mutant powers even before the first bullet was fired, and the power itself was more lethal than any bullet if you used it with as much skill as Scott could use. The concussive force of Scott's powers was charged up like lightning in thundercloud. And just as the first bullets were fired, they protected him just as easily.

A bright red light suddenly appeared all around Scott's body sheathing in a bright red film of exotic force. Every inch of him was covered, nothing unprotected. The bullets hit. Dead on. They struck areas that would have fatally wounded any ordinary man instantly. But with Scott Summers, the bullets bounced off the red force field of concussive force like tennis balls bouncing off a wall. The bullets simply struck and ricocheted off.

Even now, Jean Grey herself was not even scratched by the onslaught. Her own psychic fields were hard at work, solidifying into shielding walls of psionic kinetic action. And it was just as effective as if she had placed a solid steel wall in front of her being.

The human soldiers started firing away even more. The emptied bullet cases in their guns started to fall to the ground like hailstones falling from a cloud. The sounds of the continuous bangs and snaps of chemicals igniting in the munitions and firing the lethal rounds was filling the entire area with noise. And not to mention, there were more flashes and bangs here with the firing than on the Fourth of July.

Scott and Jean were merely standing there still and undaunted by the gunfire. And it was also occurring to the human soldiers how ineffective their weapons were proving.

The firing still continued as Jean reached out with her hand, her psychic shield still protecting her from the hundreds of rounds smashing into her barrier. Then, Jean's mutant psionic energies began to kick into hyperdrive across her nervous system, shifting into her pryokinetic patterns.

As the two X-Men still continued to stand their ground, a sudden burst of heat, washed over the human soldiers. It occurred with such suddenness, such unexpectedness, that the firing immediately stopped. The human soldiers were so unprepared that they had to cease firing in order to see what was the cause of it. But it turned out they didn't even have to move their heads or even shift their eyes to see.

A blazing wall of fire had suddenly appeared all around them, the flames of red, orange, and yellow erupting from the ground in such a neat line that you would have thought it to be a thin line of gasoline ignited by a spark. The heat made the soldiers sweat and back away. Most of them were shielding their eyes from the bright glare.

Silverson was closer to the line of flames that most of the others. She saw that those two X-Men with the weird films covering their bodies were still standing there like eerie energized statutes. They were easy targets.

A couple of other soldiers also started firing as well. However, they were instantly noticing, for the second time in less than three seconds that their bullets were useless. The male X-Man, who was still glowing red, turned his head over to a group of four soldiers who were training their weapons on him.

Scott raised his left hand, on which was a brilliant crimson flare, almost like a red neutron star on the end of his arm. With a quick sweep of his arm, a wave of red energy shot from his hand. The energy blast struck the soldiers like the volley of a cannon, lifting them up off the ground like rag dolls and sending them flying back. The weapons they held were bent and crushed like tin cans by the concussive force. The grunts crashed to the ground unconscious.

A couple of other soldiers were still training their attention to Scott, but the X-Man field leader merely looked at them with an intense red flare in his eyes. The humans were still thinking that maybe they could punch through this guy's bodily energy shield if they just kept plummeting him with volleys. But Scott merely smiled.

A massive beam of red energy fired out of his eyes, and plowed into the body of one of the soldiers. The soldier was then hurled back as a physical force equal to bomb explosion lifted him off his feet and sent him back through his comrades behind him. The soldiers scattered like bowling pins, falling and blacking out.

The fiery wall produced by Jean's pryokinesis was keeping the soldiers from advancing to bring on hand-to-hand conflict. But long-range weapons were still a problem. Since the fire was already burning, Jean had no real reason to keep intensifying it.

The redheaded woman reached out with the invisible forces of her telekinesis, grabbing the guns in the humans' hands like a human would wrap their fingers around a glass of water. But with telekinesis, it was more than simple to grab onto several objects at a time. And when it was at level alpha, as Jean's was, it could be used on more than a dozen objects at once, and lift weights of over ten tons.

In the blink of an eye, the firearms were yanked of the hands of the soldiers by Jean's powers, plucking them from their grasp like picking a flower. The incoming rounds instantly stopped hitting Jean's body, for the guns' triggers no longer had human fingers to operate them.

A few of the humans tried grabbing for their weapons, but Jean merely jerked back with her telekinesis. The guns were then flung far out behind Jean, where no one could reach them without going through her wall of fire.

Immediately after throwing away the guns, Jean placed her hands to her head, closing her green eyes. The soldiers were suddenly wondering what she was doing, but then they all felt a strange, fiery sensation in their heads. The feeling was totally new to them, yet it hurt worse than any physical gunshot. It felt like electricity was surging through their minds, their neurons and thinking powers burning up like a burnt out light bulb. The power increased until they were certain their minds were on fire from within. They then collapsed after a mere moment of this untold mental attack. And they would be out for several hours at least. A psychic blast from the X-Woman Phoenix was enough to knock you out for hours on end. They would have the mother of all headaches once they awoke.

* * *

Kurt Wagner and Remy Lebeau were pleased with the edge they had gotten via Jean's wall of fire. It gave them something that really helped out in situations like this, surprise. It could catch an enemy off guard. Off guard, off balance, fall down with the mere touch of a feather to the skin. 

They were slow and easily surprised these humans. They only had the basic genetic codes that gave them normal human physical attributes. They were marines and soldiers, but humans could only reach their physical peak at one point in their lives. Mutants like Nightcrawler and Gambit were more athletic than any human, Olympic class in acrobatics and martial arts. Add that to mutant powers and you got two very tough mutants.

Kurt raised his sword as his got ready to wield it, the titanium alloy blade shined menacingly in the firelight. He could feel all that was going on, knew where people were and where they weren't. He could teleport to where he wanted without the worry of teleporting to where another was. No two things could exist in the same place at the same time. That didn't bother him in the least. All locations in his vicinity were tuned into his being, a sense his genetic "upgrades" had granted him.

With the trademark BAMF, Kurt vanished in a puff of brimstone and sulfurous smoke and appeared right in front of a human who was fidgeting with his weapon. It had the intended effect. Total surprise and unexpectedness. This human had been looking at an empty air space just moments ago. Now he had a mutant here, and his reaction time was pathetically slow.

Kurt swung his sword at the man's weapon, the blade slicing through the main body of the gun. The now halved weapon dropped from the man's grasp, circuitry and chemical fluids pouring of the diced cartridges inside.

Kurt's next attack was with his feet. The blue-furred mutant did a back flip, bringing up the hard-boned portions of both his feet to the human's chin. The soldier's head snapped back and then he toppled over completely, falling onto his back.

A click that could only come from a trigger was what brought Kurt to look up again. And it was good thing he did. For if he hadn't he would have been filled with holes. He saw that a second soldier was there behind the one he had just taken out, and was already ready to give him a taste of gunfire.

The first sound was a bang rather than a bamf. And it was of a gun type. But Kurt teleported at that same instant, and the shots passed through the space had only recently occupied.

The soldier was about to look around to see if he could spot that weird blue creature. But the view before him went from a picture of humans aiming their rifles to a close up of a chest clad in red and black garmenting. And a blue head with fangs and goblin eyes toping it off.

Acting with superhuman reflexes, a three-fingered hand grabbed hold his Tri-fold rifle. Instead of yanking it out of the human's hands, Kurt used one of his newly gained abilities, the skill of teleporting something he was touching all by itself instead of along with him.

Air was the only thing that the soldier then felt his hands grasping. One second, his weapon was in his hand, and the next minute, it was like vaporized. The change couldn't have taken longer than an instant; for that was half the time it took for the man to register the sudden occurrence. The only thing that he felt next was a hard blow to the face that took his consciousness away.

Two targets out of he-didn't-know-how-many were down. It was time to take out some more.

Kurt turned around, clutching his sword incase he needed to cut a few things in his way. What he did see, was that Remy was twirling his bo ready to take down a soldier. But the Cajun was not aware of another soldier who was fixing the gun on Remy's back, and Remy would only notice it once he was shot.

Kurt's arm shot out immediately and a strange flash of white energy lashed out from his hand. The flash struck the soldier targeting Gambit's body, which instantly surrounded the grunt's entire being with a dimensional wormhole pattern. Then in a flash of light, the man, and the weapon he was carrying disappeared.

The teleportation beam Kurt used to save Remy immediately drew the attention of another human that was trying to figure out which X-Man to shoot. In fact it was several of them, as Kurt could see their try to ready their Tri-fold rifles. But Kurt would be more than able to handle it. He had gotten out of worse situations before. A sword-wielding, acrobatic teleporter was never someone to take lightly. And it was a lesson Kurt would make sure these humans would learn.

The hard way.

* * *

A white beam and flash was all the Remy needed to notice before he realized Kurt had just used his teleportation blast to teleport a target away. To where, Remy couldn't be sure, but it was certainly somewhere where the target, whatever it was, wouldn't bother them again any time soon. Teleportation beams sure came in handy. But Remy Lebeau had a few beams of his own. And some other things on the side. 

Several soldiers near Remy had tried to attack him outright with their powerful Tri-fold rifles as clubs, trying to use their heavy framework to strike Remy down with force. Maybe if they got him down on his knees then maybe they could fill him full of bullets once he was at their mercy. That was going to be a really treat for them. But a treat was earned only through hard work in the world during this war-filled era. And taking down a mutant like Remy Lebeau was nothing you achieved without at least getting a headache in the process.

He used his metal combat staff to swing several powerful blows to the humans who were currently giving him a hard time. But more to the point, Remy liked to think of it as giving _them_ a hard time. And when he gave someone a hard time, they had the worst day in a very long time.

Martial arts and agility were Gambit's top assets in a battle, with the exception of his mutant powers, and Remy Lebeau was a man who loved variety in life, which made it as spicy as the Cajun fried meals he used to eat all the time back in Louisiana all those years ago.

Remy swung his staff into the gut of a soldier whose side was toward him, knocking the wind of the grunt's lungs. The human bent over as a loud whoosh of air gusted out of his mouth, which was a move Remy had already anticipated. As soon as the man's face was down low, Remy kicked the man in the face with a lightning fast roundhouse kick, bring the heel of his metal combat boot into the man's face with such force, it took the guy's consciousness with it.

It was easily done fighting one guy at a time, but he was particularly fond of fighting several opponents at once. It gave him challenge, and Remy was always looking for a challenge. And not just in the battle, but in women as well, which was the main reason why he was so attracted to Rogue. Challenge gave him "the thrill of the hunt" as he would say.

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a grunt that had raised his gun over his head, ready to smash Remy's skull in. Quick reflexes and a sixth sense of motion was what allowed Remy to avoid being hit. But the truth was that Remy didn't actually dodge the blow. What he really ended up doing was catching the rifle with his free hand. Griping the metal weapon in his grip, Remy's mutant powers suddenly activated as easily as throwing a light switch.

Metal started to glow as if being heated. Pulses of energy surged through the weapon, mutating the potential energy of each and every molecule and atom in the gun into kinetic energy. Within a matter of seconds, the glow had intensified so much that the soldier had let of his weapon so that he could cover his eyes to avoid being blinded from the light.

Gambit's next move on the soldier after charging up his weapon was a powerful kick to the gut that made the human topple over and fall.

Explosive energy surging through the weapon started to glow even brighter, indicating that it was going to explode real soon, and with a bang no less. Which was also the favorite sound of Remy.

Carefully catching the weapon on the end of his staff, Remy catapulted the glowing rifle away from his body towards a group of other soldiers who were occupied with trying to shoot down Kurt and having no success, for the blue-furred mutant was teleporting and flipping too much for them to kit him.

The rifle landed softly on the rocky sand right behind the trio of humans, their notice never catching the weapon. A second later, there was a loud bang and then a massive explosion that sent the humans toppling head over heels over one another and in several directions at once as the kinetically charged rifle exploded and disintegrated in a flash of fiery sparks and searing force. Taking three soldiers out of the fight was a helpful task, but there were plenty more where those came from.

Remy quickly looked over the vicinity surrounding him, looking for a few more targets to take out. He got his wish mere seconds later. Several humans stood in front of him, their tri-fold rifles charged with power from their guns' energy cells, the transmission heads of their plasma blasters glowing with white raw energy.

Under ordinary circumstances, Remy would have been forced to use his agility or throw his staff to knock these guys off their feet in order to gain an advantage. But that was before now. And when a mutant was combat fighter in the X-Men AXT circumstances were anything but normal, as the soldiers already taken down had already found out.

Remy clenched his right hand into a tight hard fist, the mutant potential/kinetic energy fields charging through his flesh and bone. Then, the Cajun raised his fisted hand and aimed it at the gun of the nearest solider, the glow suddenly blinding as Remy brought his charge up to a maximum output.

A beam of yellow energy shot from Remy's fist, striking the weapon of the soldier square on the head of the front. Just like that, the energy filled the weapon as if Remy had simply transferred it through direct touch. And the charge went from neutral to dangers in half a second, bathing the weapon in a yellow kinetic charge field that grew brighter and brighter.

The flash of the weapon exploding was bright and blinding, and forceful. The soldier was thrown backward fro the blast, the burst leaving the front of his uniform blacked, seared, and smoking with charred burns. The blast was so powerful that the soldier was thrown back a full ten feet, crashing into a second group of thugs who were trying to shoot down Scott and Jean, who were still shielded by their fields and firing concussive or psychic blasts that were taking down the soldiers the way a gunman shoots down the targets in a shooting gallery. The man crashed, the others tumbled over.

Watching the whole event would have been immensely entertaining for Remy, but there was no time for pleasantries at the moment. The other four soldiers had already recovered from Remy's attack and their plasma guns were already to fire again. And at a range this close, there was no way they would miss.

Remy simply shot up his hands, both of them, fired up his energy beams, and fired them at the guns of the remaining for soldiers. The Cajun was quick, and the beans hit before a single shot of plasma from the humans could be fired. And then, there were four explosions that sent the remaining four of the group out of the game and glowing pieces of destroy rifle that were sent showering down on either side of Remy.

Remy wasted no time in admiring his work. He quickly grabbed his bo, which he had dropped and quickly looked around for his next enemy.

He wasn't sure what he would find in his next target. But what he didn't expect was to find one facing away from him. And that suited him fine.  
A smile spread across Remy's handsome face as he imagined the effect this attack would have.

Energy glowed on Remy's hand again, and the mutant's hands' glow then spread to his staff. It traveled through the material of the staff like electricity through a wire. As Remy charged up his staff, the weapon went from looking metallic to looking like it was made of pure energy.

He thrust one end of his staff at the ground under the feet of the human whose back was to him, and entire energy field suddenly burst from the end of the staff, returning the weapon to its ordinary appearance, the beam leaving it like magic leaves a magic wand.

The beam hit just where Remy was hoping. The bean hit the sand under the man's feet, and the spread like ripples on water, bathing a large portion of the ground in an explosive energy field.

For a second nothing occurred, but then, as the soldier looked down, surprised by the sudden appearance of light under his feet, the ground exploded with tremendous force upward and outward. Shockwaves rippled through the ground as the tremors made the soldiers around them loose footing and fall, sand and bits of rock raining down as the man who was previously standing on the spot was thrown straight up into the air before landing hard on his back.

Satisfied with that job, Remy looked for his next opponent. He wanted to take out a few more before the fight was over.

* * *

Down below, the groups of humans and X-Men were fighting it out in a fierce battle. The dark desert night was punctured and sliced by the flashes from energy blasts and the torn by the raging sounds of gunfire and explosions. The continuous movements of the fighters made them swerve and shift their positions every second, making their dark bodies down below look like ants warming over the defeated body of a larger insect. 

The transport unit was quaking slightly from side to side as the prisoners, excited by the battle outside in the hopes of getting freed, pounded on the walls of their and leapt in their small, small cells.

A small hole could be seen in the top of the cab at the front of the transport where Wolverine and Shadowcat had take out their transport's communications, and small plumes of smoke billowed out of the opening.

The human soldiers were still fighting, but they were dropping like flies from the X-Men AXT's attacks.

Meanwhile at the very back of the commotion, the farthest point from the Compound over three miles away, the hoverbikes and their riders were starting to get their gears together. The lights of the front of their bikes were not set to high beam mode, the guns and laser cannons built into the chassis's of their machines now glowing with laser plasma, and the guns they wore on their shoulder straps were now off and being wielded by one arm as the other steered the hoverbikes.

One could clearly see the dozen hoverbikers speeding towards either side of the transport where humans were fighting mutants, speeding towards them with accelerated speeds. But high above, was something they were not aware of.

Three figures were flying around in circles over the battlefield, two women and one man, all three of them mutants, all three of them X-Men. Rogue, Storm, and Archangel flew over the scene carefully observing everything.

The bikers were coming in quick, but the three flying X-Men were able to soar into situations faster than any machine could, partly from natural ability, partly from years of experience to sharpen their skills to razor edges.

Powers began to fire up for the three mutants.

Storm's eyes glowed the silver-white glow of weather manipulation energy, lightning sizzling on her hands as white mists began to swirl and wind blow around her like an air/moisture force field.

Rogue's eyes started to fill with a ruby-tinted light, her green eyes going featureless with red as Storm's did with white, all the while, her normally soft skin becoming hard and shiny like metal as three long-pointed claws composed of very durable bone popped out from between her knuckles on each hand.

Warren "Archangel" Worthington, in all his blue-skinned, golden-eyed glory, spread his powerful wings, each wing covered with thousands of white feathers with jagged, razor-sharp edges and pointed tips more lethal than harpoons. Cerulean and crimson veins stood out on each blade-edged feather, droplets of paralyzing neurotoxin forming at secretion points along each jagged edge and pointed tip.

Without a thought, breath, or hesitation, the three flying mutants dived downward towards their targets. Attacks from above would surely gaurntee this victory.

* * *

And there is the first chapter of "In the Eye of the Enemy." I'm sure you all have questions about this! I hope you keep wondering! Next chapter will be up in a while, so stay tuned. And remember, I NEED reviews! Need them! Need them! Need them! 


	3. The Second Step of the Mission

They're bigger! They're better! They're battle ready! They're the X-Men, like you've never seen them before! (Laughs) Sorry, just had to make a flashy entrance! This is your friendly author KSimonT-X, reporting live from with the latest update for the work "In the Eye of the Enemy." This work is off to a great start and the reviews are just oh so driving with passion and enthusiasm. My gratitude to all you reviewers out there! I'm sure you've all noticed some major differences about this new version of X-Men; their new team title, their new uniforms, their new and improved powers, St. Genosha (that part will be real interesting!), and of course, the history of this dark, violent world that they fight in! Well, my fine friends, that will all be reveled in time! One major genre of this fic is mystery, which is one reason why I left you all wondering! I'm sorry if it's been a wait, but I've just been slammed with schoolwork and exams that I just couldn't ignore! Being in college will do that to a fella!

Here is to my loyal reviewers who give me strength to keep going!

**Slickboy444:** Whew! I just can't thank you enough for that review! Your reviews are so driving I just can't stand it! Thank you so much for it! In response to your question, yes, your fic "Sinister Soldiers" did inspire me to include those new features of Jean and Scott, which then inspired me to do the "upgrades" in the others you probably noticed. You know what they say, good authors inspire each other and great minds think alike! You and I and living proof of that! I figured I could take all the X-Men up a notch in this fic. As for the Logan/Ororo couple, there will be some of that in this fic. However, the parings I mentioned in the summery of this story are the main focuses in that regard. For more reasons that one, I might add. I will also be doing that paring in "Downfall Blessings and Uprising Legacies." This fic will include some couples of my own making, some of which were inspired by other authors, yourself and our uncanny _Agent-G_ included! And in response to why I stopped that way, I just wanted to leave you on the edge of your seat, make you desperate for more! You rock so much! KSimonT-X signing off!

**Nettlez**: Thank you! This story is looking like it has promise like my other fic does! You are supporting both! I appreciate that! You like those initial titles I made? Well, I wasn't thinking of Star Wars when I wrote that chapter, but if that's your imagination imagery, then cool! Peace out!

**Simba317**: Wow! What a long, in-depth, detailed, complimenting review! I love reviews like that! Yes, it's true, your fic _Underground Resistance X_ inspired me to write this story, as did a whole lot of other things that I listed. Believe me or not, I know how good it feels to know you've inspired somebody's work with your own. I've done a lot of inventing in this fic in order to keep it my own personal work and as different from others as possible. And you are right about the hounds. I got that idea from the same website you visit for X-Man information. Frankly I wish the comics could be more like the animated series. I have both X-Men: Evolution and the animated series on DVD and I just can't watch them enough. I'm also glad you like the special version of X-Men I've made up for this fic. There have been quite a few alternate versions of the X-Men, some made by the marvel comic writers and some by fanfiction writers, so I figured I'd try to make my own. There will be a few other characters in this next chapter I'm sure you'll recognize. Also, if you like this fic, you may like my other as well. You rock!

**Ayu**: Thanks for that! I was hoping people would like this major team up in this dark, war-ridden world. However, this new team doesn't include EVERY member of the three teams, as you'll soon find out. The reason why? Well, that will be revealed later. In addition, the reason as to how they got their powers upgraded will be revealed soon as well. Thanks and peace out!

Also, remember that my other story "Downfall Blessings and Uprising Legacies" always needs more readers and reviewers too!

So, lets give this chapter the reader's what for, shall we?

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**The Second Step of the Mission**

The X-Men AXT soldiers, Cyclops, Phoenix, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Gambit, Shadowcat, Psylocke, Wolverine, Iceman, and others stood all together now. They had taken out foot soldiers with ease, as they could with their training and powers and the transport unit was going nowhere real soon, as Kitty had destroyed the steering computers with her phasing powers, and the humans were now all lying down on the group unconscious. They were beaten to a pulp and their weapons were useless against the mutants. As everyone was standing there, all their sights on the groups of hoverbikers sailing towards them, the commandos at the helm of each machine wielding their rifles and weapon controls with every intention of killing these X-Gene carriers.

Iceman and Colossus stood in front of the group, Psylocke and Phoenix close behind them. Colossus and Iceman, both in their mutant elemental forms of living ice and organic metal, stood like warriors of Viking culture as the commandos on hoverbikes headed their way with murderous intent.

The bullets from the first commando were then fired. Smoke and sparks spouted from the gun's barrel, the slug plowing through the air at the two mutants. Colossus raised a massive organic steel arm, the indestructible metallic epidermis shimmering in the moonlight. The bullets struck and bounce off, not even scratching the metal mutant.

Iceman was up to some changes of his own. He was currently in his organic ice from, but after his "upgrades" he now had total control over every ice crystal and droplet of water in his body. Iceman formed a massive shield out of his arm made of solid ice that was being kept frozen with Bobby's mutant sub-zero freezing energies at minus 100 degrees. The bullets only nicked the surface of the shield, chips of ice flying off. But as the chips fell to the group, they melted into living water, which then flowed to Bobby's feet to merge with the rest of his ice form. If temperatures were cold enough, ice could be as hard and as durable as solid steel. Bobby had always managed to make his ice formations hard and sturdy, but ever since he had his "upgrades" a long time ago along with the rest of the X-Men AXT, he could now lower the temperatures in and around himself to levels even colder than liquid oxygen, making his ice akin to steel.

Jean and Betsy, who were using psychic shields to protect themselves from the bullets, reached out with their telekinesis to wrench the guns out the hands of several of the bikers, tossing them away in the process. Jean fired several psychic blasts at the commandos as Betsy formed two psionic spears and hurled them at two incoming bikers.

Two commandos fell off their bikes, one suffering from a headache that he once thought could only come from being hit head on with a bulldozer as the other felt his entire nervous system go through the biological equivalent of a supernova as Psylocke's psionic spears filled him with devastating telepathic force, he consciousness going out like a candle.

The others, still having weapons and their bikes under their control came on. The laser blasts from the guns mounted on the sides of each hoverbike fired at them, the energy darts speeding at them like arrows.

But then, out of nowhere, the commandos saw a big flash of lightning and red energy shoot down towards them from high above. The red beam struck one commando's bike and the metal instantly broke like glass, sparks and pieces of flaming wreckage scattering as the machine toppled over onto its top, lying upside down with smoky plumes coming out of its wounded circuitry.

The bike that was on the receiving end of the lightning was no better. The blinding flash of whiteness sliced through the air and filled the bike as well as its rider with lethal electrical power, a 100,000 volt firestorm of raw power raging through nerves and muscles in human and wires and chassis supports in hover cycle. Both human and bike dropped, the fight out of both of them.

It was in that very same instant that two other hoverbikers caught a glimpse of something else coming their way. They were flying down through the air at them with lightning speed, faster than a gun can shoot a bullet, and whistling down with the type of whine that only cam from air cutting across a sharp defined edge.

Darts. Feather-shaped darts. Hundreds of them knifing through the air like small machetes without handles.

One second they were in front of their eyesight, the next, they were in them. The projectiles struck with tremendous force, imbedding themselves in the target of spearing through and out the other side.

Several of the dart feathers plowed in the metal plating of the outside of the bikes. But instead of bending or snapping like ordinary bird feathers would, these feathers punctured the metal, striking the surface, yet not yielding.

Like needles through paper, the feathers needled straight through the metal plating. Others, which were not targeted at a flat surface, struck at odd angles, the razor-sharp edges cutting long gashes in the outer chassis like the paper cuts the edges of a sheet of paper leaves on a human finger. Wires and circuitry underneath the protective metal was sliced and pierced, sparks flying from the gashes and dented punctures. The feather darts exited out the other side of the hoverbikes, the momentum still strong enough for them to smash their way through the machine and still come out the other side.

The drivers of those two certain bikes also go struck by the feathers. And at first they didn't even realize they were hit until a few seconds later. Most sharp objects make a person feel the pain of the injury right away, for the surface is dull enough for the nervous system to detect the pain early and translate it into nervous system signals. However, there are a few things that are sharp enough to stall the feeling for only a few seconds after the injury is inflicted. The two bikers who were hit by the incoming feather darts didn't notice the pain until a full five seconds had passed, indicated that the points and edges were sharper than razor blades and needles.

They saw several feather-shaped objects sticking out of their skin and torn uniforms, and that was when they really felt it. Pain. Nerve-wracking, brain numbing pain. The feathers in their flesh were not soft like bird feathers, but felt like bladed plates of metal. And what's more, they saw the bright blue and red veins on each feather, which was a feature that no feather should possess. But these feathers had them, and there was more to them that merely being there. The red and blue veins pulsed on the feathers, as if a living organic heart muscle was pushing fluid through them. The feathers started to release fluid, as they saw, red and blue fluid coming out certain points along the jagged edges. And that was when the pain started. Muscles grew stiff and immobile as nerves grew red-hot with pain, the fiery sensation rubbing their endings raw. And then, everything around them went black, as they lost consciousness. They couldn't move, they could hear, see, smell, or feel anything at all. Yet they weren't dying, only collapsing. The pain itself was suddenly diminishing, but the blissful darkness descending over their minds was not better. They couldn't fly their bikes, were unable to fight off these mutants. Hopefully, the rest of their unit could get them off before they came to finish the job.

* * *

The sudden attacks from above, lightning, red concussive beams, and feather darts capable of piercing metal drew the attention of all the human commandos up to the sky to see where it was coming from. And the second they did, they wished they hadn't. 

Ororo was flying with her eyes faring with silver-white glow, as if flames of ice and snow were burning inside her soul within. Both the weather witch's hands were out stretched and lightning was forming on her graceful hands, her entire being held up by the winds and updrafts summoned up by her mental psychic control of weather. The regal, beautiful, and powerful Storm was nature's fury at its most exerted.

Rogue, whose name no one was able to guess, floated like a war spirit as several genetic templates coursed through her body, filling her powers with the combined superhuman energies of the mutants' powers he was using. Her entire body was now organic steel, her strength increased to superhuman levels. On her powerful metal hands, two sets of bony claws were extended, curved, hooked, lethal, and ready to slash. And on her lovely face, now metal like the rest of her, a fiery red glow was flashing in her eyes like fireballs. The powers of Wolverine, Colossus, and Cyclops were in her body, but their psychics were well under control, pushed far away that they weren't even noticeable. Which she was glad of, since her "upgrades" had given her total control over her memory/power absorption ability.

And finally, like an angel of avenging power, Warren had his wings spread. The powerful wingspan spread a full fifteen feet from side to side, and the power the wings used was awesome. Upon each wing were the lethal poisonous feather darts that he could shoot with lethal accuracy in the blink of an eye. The neurotoxins of the feathers was enough to stun an elephant within three minutes of contact. Use that on a human, and they would go down faster than the Titanic.

The other X-Men AXT members were looking at the surprise descending over the human's faces when they saw the attacks coming from above. And with pleasure and entertained amusement. If their enemies were not expecting their flying members to do anything, then they were in for a real bruising.

"Up there!" one commando on a hoverbike shouted to his comrades, who were already taking notice of three mutants flying in the air above them like vultures.

"Flyin' muties!" another shouted, "Shoot 'em! Knock 'em out of the sky!"

It was in that very instant that several bike commandos brought up their handheld weapons, their safeties off and their fingers already on the triggers. Instants later, in not less, the slugs were flying upwards at the three flying X-Men.

Ororo was the first to act, and she did it was such skill that the humans could hardly believe she was doing it. The weather goddess darted to the side, the uranium slugs darting past her and hitting air. But that was not the only danger to Storm, as several more volleys darted up towards her. Ororo merely raised her hand, sending a tremendously powerful gust of wind at the bullets, ten times harder than hurricane force. This impossibly powerful rush of air was so strong that the bullets were actually pushed back by the force, and then they fell.

Unlike Storm, Rogue was merely staying where she was. She stood her ground as if the bullets coming up to strike her were no more than a gentle summer breeze. The 50-calibur uranium slugs plowed into Rogue's metal skin. But all that Rogue felt was a slight tingle. The mutant metal was so tough Rogue felt no pain at all. Again and again the slug hit her, but having no effect at all other than make a small puff of spark each time one hit. The southern born woman only smiled.

Warren himself was not moving away from his present spot either, but he was not entirely still like Rogue was. In fact, the blue-skinned, golden-eyed man was readying a new technique he had gained only recently in the past. Warren, spread all four of his appendages, both wings and both arms straight out, then, as quick as lightning, he wrapped himself up in his wings, like a cocoon of bone and feather. The bullets were closing in, and struck the strange formation Warren and his folded wings made. However, the volleys merely hit the strong wings, and then bounced off. Not a one penetrated. Archangel's wings were not only able to fire the poisonous feather-shaped darts, but were also very tough and resilient to damage, twice as strong as steel. Thanks to a certain mutation triggered by Warren's "upgrades" the wings had produced an exotic from of protein and a chemically enhanced calcium phosphate compound that gave the wings' bone structure and feathers immense strength.

The soldiers continued to let their bullets fly and smash, but two of their targets were not affected at all by the onslaught, while the third was merely darting out of the way as easily as a person would walk. But after only a few seconds of dodging or letting the hard stuff hit them, the three flying mutants flew down towards them, flying downward into diagonal lines like three fearsome hawks swooping down on a defenseless rabbit.

Seconds later, the real strike occurred. Archangel dived straight down toward two biker commandos who were still firing away with their guns. But the mutant angel was fast and agile in his flight, and more than equipped to deal with them. Bullets whizzed past Warren's flesh, but he only felt the small and snappish shish of air that each bullet left behind as it traveled.

It was less than three seconds. That was the time it took for Warren to swoop down into the closest proximity of the human commandos. And as Archangel reached his foes, he spread his wings wide and long, the sharp edges of the wings spread out, like a bladed hang glider.

The human soldiers ducked as Warren quickly flew over and past them. But the mutant's wings were spread wide as could be, easily a dozen feet from tip to tip. But then the strangest thing occurred. Both grunts had raised their guns up, see if they could hit the winged mutant's wings hard enough to knock him to the ground. But that wasn't the result they got.

Once the wings' edges hit the metal of their guns, they didn't stop or break, as the fragile hollow wing bones of flying birds were known to do. The wings, the feathers, the bones inside, were sharp, durable, and incredibly hard with some type of mutant anatomy feature. For the wings sliced right through the metal of the guns. The wings flew and passed through the guns like the metal was actually paper. The angel's wings were sharper than razor blades and the cut was clean and swift. Before a second had passed, Archangel had flown past the two humans as his powerful wings sliced through their guns, leaving them without portable firearms.

Meanwhile, Rogue was flying down with speeds just a s fast as Archangel was flying at, only she was not using wings to fly, but was riding psychic controlled updrafts and mentally generated magnetic fields, whose effect was enhanced by the organic steel form she had taken. Her entire skin surface was shiny and metallic, her eyes glowing with the red glow of the force beams inside her metallic eyeballs, just begging to be unleashed, and the foot-long bone claws in her hands were just begging to be used.

Concussive force shot from Rogue's face, striking a hoverbike on the front end of its chassis. The beam forced the bike to stand on its front like a bucking bronco. The rider flew off the bike as the sudden force lifted him from the seat and sent him flying.

Bullets still picked at Rogue's form, but her invulnerability, which apparently was a amalgam of the invulnerability powers of several mutants, Juggernaut and Colossus included, was hardly touched by the gunfire.

The southern borne woman flew down, her metal hands armed with claws out in front of her, like a torpedo equipped with a spiked head. She plowed headlong into the side of one hoverbike that was in her path. Instantly, the bone claws pierced the metal and impaled itself through the circuits and wires inside as Rogue's enormous strength crushed the bike as if it was a hollow tube of paper.

Two other bikers turned on her, their guns up and ready to fire. Rogue swiped at the guns, her claws slicing the long barrels like a skilled knife-wielder cutting up a salami. After ridding her attackers of their guns, she grabbed the front of one bike and swung it around like a club at the other bike. For most people, that would have been impossible, yet for Rogue, it was easy as hitting a ball with a baseball bat. The metal machines crumbled like cans as they collided, the rider of the second bike leaping off at the last possible second, barely avoiding getting his leg caught between the two bikes.

The huge force sent the bike flying off the side. Rogue then turned and threw the wrecked bike at another group of bikers who were firing away. The scrunched up machine struck one bike and biker, sending it flying into the others like a series of dominos falling over.

* * *

Lieutenant Silverson was so angry that she was willing to actually bite her own arm to get a distraction from her anger. Too may of her colleges, who were fine soldiers, or okay soldiers, depending on what their records were, were now all lying around unconscious. Bruised. Blasted. Bashed. Burned. Clobbered. Knocked out. Pounded into the ground. Her mind just made phrase after phrase to describe their beaten state. She was sure her brain would literally burst if she thought of only one more word that could be used. 

But right then and there, she quickly tried thinking of something else. Like getting these mutie terrorists down with bullets so that they would have a few less X-Men to worry about.

Silverson had only just recently regained her posture and awareness, for she had been hit with an energy blast of some sort and the force had made her black out and collapse. And now she was hurting lie hell all over and she was almost certain she would find a bruise on her chest the color of the skin of a plum when she was later on examined, but she put that thought aside.

Before her, the X-Men AXT were standing, all of them in their conspicuous uniforms, sleek, form-fitting, red and black suits that had golden metal accessories like belts for the waits and shoulders, as well as armor, boots, arm bands, head protection, and such for them, the combination varying from each person.

Wrecked hoverbikes and knocked out commandos were before them on the ground, three flying mutants, just setting down on the ground after taking out whoever was left. All around trashed hoverbikes were smoking or sparking, now twisted like they had been through a blender for metal machines. This was really not the way to go.

She had to contact the others in the area. The Compound was over three miles away and all she had to do was to get in contact and with a touch of a button the troops would send out HKs and Sentinel RWs out to get this freaks.

She reached for her communication device, which was fixated to her belt via a series of clips. At the same time, she reached for the hand gun in her belt, ready in case any mutants tried to make her life even worse than it already way. She was determined to at least make these muties get their fair share of harm and pain.

No sooner did Silverson take the radio from her belt when a loud shot reached her ears. It was like that. A sudden flash of sound that raged across her ears like a firestorm. And the sound itself was clue as to what was being fired. There was no bang, just a sudden zapping sound followed by a burst of flashing charges. The weapon producing the shot was not a projectile gun, like a pistol. It was an energy weapon, a gun that fired energy blasts instead of solid metal slugs.

The radio exploded in her hand, the exocasing of the machine shattering as chips and receiving mechanisms were scattered. And the shot itself was so perfect that Silverson's hand was not even touched by it. Only a few people she knew could shoot so cleanly at truly. Now she was left with no way of reaching the Compound or calling for help. Her ditch just got a lot deeper and all.

Almost reluctantly, she looked up to see who had fired the shot. All the X-Men were standing there, their faces either aggressive or neutral. Most of them merely looked at her with disinterest or complete calmness. For people so young, Silverson couldn't help by be impressed. As for herself, she was sure she would be scared out of her mind had not been for all her military training.

Silverson's eyes carefully looked over each of the mutants, each one she recognized from the files each soldier was required to know for any mission. Finally, she saw one of them holding a long-barreled plasma gun in his right hand. A big, African American male with long dread-locked hair and short beard, bearing a strange M shaped tattoo over his right eyes. The transmission head of the weapon was smoking, indicating it had been fired only seconds ago. The man brought down his gun, as if daring her to try something.

"Sorry, lady," he said in a calm, yet dangerous tone, "But you've exceeded your calling credit."

A couple of the others snickered at that comment, especially the one with red on black eyes and the one who appeared to be made of transparent crystal.

Those snickers were all Silverson needed. She immediately pulled out her pistol and aimed it at the group of X-Men before her, both hands on the trigger, the safety disengaged. "Stay back you fucking mutie freaks!" she snapped, feeling both terrified and furious. All her life she had been training to be a hard-core marine, and now these X-Men, these freaks of nature, were mocking her. As solider, she swore to herself to never let her enemy laugh at her when she was in a tight spot. She had to show her foes she was not a wimpy damsel in distress type. If she went down, she would go down with them hurting or dying with her.

"Stay back or I'll blow your damn heads off!" she shouted, her eyes darting from one X-Men to another, all the while her gun doing the same. She couldn't decide which X-Man to pick off first. If she attacked one, the others would be on her. She had to choose and soon.

"No, you won't lady," said the wild haired man with the claws sticking out from the knuckles of his gloves, "You won't have the time."

"Says who, mutie!" Silverson demanded in a hard voice.

"Says all of us,"said the young-brown-man with the red eyes said to her.

"In case you didn't notice," Silverson pointed out, "I've got all you freaks in one spot. It'll be like a shooting gallery at the carnival!"

The clawed man started laughing, as did the man with the M tattoo over his eye. "Who said we are all of our group?" asked the tattoo man.

Silverson was suddenly confused. But then the realization hit her. There were probably more mutants in the near vicinity, reinforcements and cavalry troops. But she till kept her gun on the group.

"I'd put that gun away before somethin' bad happens to ya," said the man in the black trench coat with the red on black eyes.

Silverson was about to tell him to go fuck himself, but then she heard a deep fierce growling sound, like some large jungle animal was nearby. But that was impossible. No animals like that lived out here in the desert. Maybe one of these muties was fiddling with her mind. Mutants with telepathic abilities were known to do that. Make people see illusions to throw them off guard. However, she saw the X-Men were looking smug all of a sudden as if they could hear the growling as well.

"Too late," said the strange-eyed man, his grin widening.

And with that, the growling escalated into a roar. The kind of roar a big cat would make when pouncing on its prey. And it was close, as in right-behind-your-back close. And that was when Silverson turned around to see what was coming. And not a moment too soon.

In dark desert night, a massive shape leaped out of the shadows and was flying towards Silverson with a loud lion-like roar and growl merging and mingling. Golden eyes and white fangs flashing, the creature slammed into Silverson before she could even think about pulling the trigger to her pistol. Two heavy appendages slammed into her chest, the pistol being knocked loose by the force. Silverson finally worked up enough courage to look at her attacker. But it was something she wasn't at all expecting to see.

There before her, was a giant, black, golden-eyed panther. The big cat's lips were curled over its white fangs in a fierce snarl, the claws on its paws as sharp as daggers, its sleek black coat of fur almost making it vanish with camouflage effect in the dark night.

Silverson couldn't believe what she was seeing. "It's impossible," she stuttered. This type of animal was not found in this country. Hell as far as she knew, panthers were extinct from all the war. So how the hell did this one get here?

If Silverson didn't know any better, she thought she saw the panther smile. Then it started to change. The beast stood up on its hind legs, the shape of the limbs changing to what looked more human than animal. The blackness of the face faded and started to turn bluish as the hair on the head grew longer and red. Within a matter of seconds, the panther had turned from feline predator into a full-figured woman, who looked unlike any woman Silverson had ever seen before. This woman had cat-like eyes, golden and glowing like lanterns. Her really long hair, as red as wet scarlet paint, blew in wild waves in the wind, a black headband securing the base to her head. But the most amazing part of all was that her skin was blue, a bright blue that looked as vivid as the color of blue neon light without actually glowing. She wore black combat boots, really tight fitting pants that displayed her shapely figure, and what looked like a one-shoulder top that left her arms and slim midriff bare.

The woman smiled, as predatory as the panther she had once been. "Not impossible, Dearie," she said smirking, "but real close."

Her words snapped Silverson out of her trance. She stumbled to her feet, yanking a combat knife from her belt. "Stay back!" she shot at the blue-skinned woman.

The mutant woman only smirked. Then she raised both her hands, as blue as the rest of her. And then, her hands started to change. The blue-colored skin went black again, but lacking fur. The surface was hard, shiny like obsidian rock. The thumb increased in length, as the other four fingers on each hand merged and became a single solid protrusion. The tips grew pointed, the edges jagged. Less that a second later, both the woman's hands had morphed into what looked, for heaven's sake, like gigantic scorpion claws. The smile on her blue face grew wider. Both her claws started opening and closing, the sharp edges making clashing sounds each time the met.

The sight of those claws could easily make an ordinary person flee, but Silverson, always in her courageous stupidity, merely hollered and charged at the shape-changing woman. The human lieutenant raised her knife and as ready to strike, when, with inhuman speed, the blue woman seized one of Silverson's hands by the wrist in one of claws. Silverson felt it, the hard, sharp edges cutting into her clothes and skin. The edges were as sharp as razor blades. But before she could react, the woman seized her other hand with her free claw, leaving the human to her mercy.

Silverson tried struggling to get out the woman's grasp, but the hold was strong and any struggling made the cuts even worse. The blue woman continued to smirk at Silverson's predicament.

Finally, Silverson looked at the weird blue woman with fury in her eyes. "We'll kill you mutie scum! We'll wipe you all out!"

The blue woman's eyes narrowed. Then the color of her forehead and cheeks went a bony grey, and then the flesh hardened and stood out as a strange helmet-like bone formation appeared on her face. "I don't think so," she muttered. And with that, she brought her head down to smash Silverson in the face with her rock-hard head armor. The last thing Silverson was aware of before she passed out was the feeling of blood flowing from her nostrils and the pieces of bone in her smashed nose being driven back into the muscles behind her sinuses.

* * *

Logan was smiling as he watched Raven put the human lieutenant out of the fight. "Mystique" really suited her well for a codename. You could never guess what form she would take next. Animal, person, object, environmental surface, or something you'd never dreamed up before. It was something that was never predictable. And that was what made her a real bad enemy of any soldier stupid enough to piss her off. 

Raven Darkholme stood up from the unconscious female soldier lying on the ground in front her, who had two scarlet streaks of blood oozing from her smashed nostrils. Her clawed hands were now back to normal and the bony plating her had formed on her head was gone as well. The blue-skinned metamorph nudged the head of the solider with the toe of her boot. No response came.

"I think you got her," said Logan.

Mystique merely looked at Logan with a self-satisfied smile on her face. "I just had to be certain," she said, "You know how I feel about unwanted surprises."

"Ah think we get yer point, Mama," said Rogue, not wanting her adopted mother to go into a long-range conversation like she sometimes did. Not often, rest assured, but occasionally.

"Hey, you telling your mother what to do, Cherie?" asked Remy, who placed a hand gently on Rogue's shoulder, "If ah didn't know better, I'd say you were tryin' to switch roles with her." There was a smirk on Remy's face, the smirk that showed clearly how cocky and confident he was in himself. It also contained that special flirting he saved especially for Rogue. Remy had always thought of using a special kind of tone when talking to the one girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And of course, Rogue was that girl. He wasn't sure how many times he reminded himself of that fact, but hell, he didn't care at all. As long as he could remember it, and of course, as long as Rogue knew that, it was fine by him.

The response Remy got was Rogue looking over her shoulder at him. She smiled a little bit. "You tryin' at analyze me, Swamp Rat?" she asked, half playfully, half-seriously. All Remy did was smile wider at his nickname, which didn't bother him in the slightest.

Bishop, who had placed his hand held plasma gun back in his side holster, took a closer look at the fallen humans and their hoverbikes. The machines were trashed. No way they could be fixed. The hydrogen fuel storage capsules were punctured, the chassis frames were twisted like pretzels, and the circuitry was tangled up so much event eh world's handiest sowing expert would have fainted from sheer terror at the wired up chaos.

"I tell you, there's nothing more satisfying that making a few soulless human grunts see stars behind their own eyelids," said Bishop, smiling at the total chaos the scene.

Wanda Maximoff only rolled her eyes. "With a guy like you who has a passion for ripping into crime like a junkyard dog, I'm not surprised," she said. Wanda's long scarlet cape flowed behind her in the breeze.

Bishop only laughed. "You don't know the half of it," he replied, "When you have a past like mine with dealing with bad ass punks and gang members, you take great pleasure in making it all stop."

Lucas Bishop was among the older members of the X-Men AXT. He was in his mid thirties, unlike most of the rest, and his past was one of crime fighting on the side of the law. As a teenager, he had been extremely active in team sports and enjoyed football and weightlifting. Building his physic with hard sport play, he gained muscle and tolerance fast. After learning he had a natural talent for sharp-shooting and taking down punks, he became a junior police officer, only to lose his job after accidentally exposing himself as a mutant by displaying his ability to absorb kinetic energy and reroute it into destructive plasma bolts he could fire from his hands. Now in the most extreme freedom fighting movement in the history of civilization, he could put his skills to the test. And if there was one thing Lucas Bishop loved, it was a challenge.

"Let's not lose focus here people," said Jean, "We're on a mission here." Jean was looking back at the transport trailer cages where the mutant prisoners were residing. She could see they were weak and couldn't do anything other than simply stare out in total exhaustion or place their hands on the seemingly impenetrable space age glass barriers.

"Not to worry, Jean," said Betsy Braddock, who was standing near Warren, "We're all focused here."

Warren was busy picking bits of metal off the edges of his wings that had remained stuck to the sharp cutting edges. All the neurotoxin chemicals were now totally inside his feather darts, hence no fluid was leaking out the secretion channels. Warren was immune to his own poison, but he still liked to keep the fluid at bay unless needed. Warren had found out a while ago that in he used all the toxin his body produced at once, it would take five to six hours for his body to regenerate more of it enough to use again. During that time, he could cut with his wings and fire his feathers, but he found out using the darts with the nervous system paralyzing secretions was far preferable to using ones without.

"I'm telling you," said the winged, blue-skinned mutant, "I think I'm losing my touch with my swooping attack."

"What makes you say that, luv," asked Betsy, gently rubbing her gloved hand over Warren's muscular chest.

"Well, for one thing, I used to not get bits of stuff caught on the edges," he motioned to the bits of debris on his wing edges.

Betsy only chuckled at that statement.

In the meantime, Scott and Jean are carefully looking at the two trailers that the transport unit had been pulling along over the desert. The unbreakable space age material was clear as glass, so they could easily see the prisoners in their holding pens. The sight was gruesome, which was far from being worst they had seen of this sort of thing before. Since there were Compounds all over the world, which were maintained by the citizens of the countries they were located in, each nation was free to deal with mutants as they saw fit, even though all the world's nations had agreed to become involved in the mutant-extermination act. Russians handling the Siberian Compound in the USSR and the Japanese/Chinese/Oriental people themselves had over three Compounds located in their part of the world. And just as like those, there were a couple of the hellish prison labs in Africa as well, where the treatment of mutants was at an all time low. Each country that had a Compound was free to run it as it pleased as long as the final goal, the extermination of the X-gene and the purifying of humanity, was achieved. The United States was not really the most brutal when it cam to that, but brutal was the mildest word to describe Compounds anywhere in the world.

All the prisoners were either unconscious or barely conscious of their surrounding world. They had hardly moved during the fight between the X-Men AXT and the humans' forces. The lack of nourishment, water, and physical activity was taking its toll. Neither Scott nor Jean had any true idea as to how long they had been in the holding trailers, but it was by no means short at all. There were mutants that they had rescued before from execution camps who had said they had been in those cramped up spaces for days at a time. How long exactly, they didn't know. But they didn't need to, for the basic layout was more than enough.

Jean looked to Scott, who returned her his red-eyed gaze, his eyes like red jewels. Jean only looked at Scott and nodded, not using words, her telepathy, or even her mouth's muscles to signal her idea. And Scott needed nothing else to know what she meant.

The young leader brought up his left arm and tapped a series of commands into the very small panel on the communications device on his wrist there. "Cyclops to Blackbird 1."

* * *

The first sign of an incoming message was a _beep-beep-beep_ sound from the communications terminal in the cockpit of Blackbird 1, the next, the sound of Scott Summers' voice coming over the signal. "_Cyclops to Blackbird 1. Blackbird 1, please acknowledge_." With those words being said, a large hand, covered with a thick, fine coat of blue fur and having fingers twice as long as that of any ordinary human, reached out and pressed the button hat allowed the other end of the transmission to receive the response. 

"This is Blackbird 1," said Henry "Beast" McCoy, as he leaned forward to look into the viewscreen there on the console that would allow him to see the face of whomever was sending him this transmission. Sure enough. On the screen appeared the face of Cyclops, the starry night of the desert in the background and his red eyes clear indicators of his being the true Scott Summers.

"I read you, Cyclops," said Beast, "How is everything going so far with the mission?"

"_So far we've had no problems yet_," said Cyclops over the communications signal, "_We were met with the usual human military escorts, but we managed to take them down_."

"Any casualties on our side?" asked Beast.

"_No_," came the reply, "_We're all standing with everything in top shape. All the human forces are out of commission by the way, so we won't have to worry about any of them_."

Beast looked over at the radar screen on his console. The diagram on the screen displayed a large gird of lines that covered a computerized map of the surrounding area of the desert. The entire area was a large, at least a hundred miles in every direction, but the size was not the only thing about the landscape that made it formidable terrain.

Years before, in the time before the apocalyptic devastation created by the Miracle Virus bio-weapon, the Nevada desert was still a hot, dry climate. However, it still remained a sustainer of an ecosystem. The desert dwellers, which included rattlers, scorpions, and other unforgiving creatures moved about it the sand world of it, and the no-touch plants of the dry climate still stood, almost mocking the hot desert sun at its failure to dry them up and whiter away.

But now, life in North America, as well as all over the planet, was fading fast. Beast had been on many ground missions during his time with X-Men AXT. During the past six years, he had visited over several dozen countries around the world, seeing that not a single one of them had escaped effect of the damage. China, Japan, Zaire, Egypt, Brazil, nowhere was left untouched. Death and destruction was something you could practically taste on your tongue if you breathed through your mouth. It was everywhere.

What Beast saw on the radar monitor was somewhat reassuring that the mission was going smoothly, however, it was also a really good indicator of what obstacles lay ahead of them later on with the next phase of the plan. And this plan was of a certain type of plan that had been practiced before, yet the scale of this one was far above those of any other.

The part of this mission that made it so high on the scale was the target. Many human structures and establishments dotted the world's ravaged surface, not all of them the same type. Usually the target that the X-Men had gone after were places like munitions manufacturers or even extermination camps run by the termination forces of the human enemy side of the war. Places like that not only varied in their roles in the human's anti-mutant battle, but also in their defenses and vitality in the entire picture. There was always the type of target that made others seem less of a concern in the long run. An extermination camp might be less of a priority if there was a new type of prototype weapon developed in a certain plant that could turn the tide in the humans' favor.

This was first mission that they had made their target, which they had to infiltrate and destroy and get out with their lives and their prizes, was a Compound. Compounds were, in Beast's personal opinion, the Fort Knox equivalent of top-secret research lab for state-of-the-art genetic research and maximum high-tech security prison both rolled into the same package. It was a terrifying thought.

Beast saw several bright blue icons on the screen that indicated the several blackbirds that were lying in wait behind a rocky ridge that was on one side of the valley, while a major line that represented the top of the cliffs separated those blue icons from a couple of dozen tiny dots sent out by the X-Men's homing beacons. It was standard procedure for an X-Man to use such a device on all missions. If the dot went out for some reason or another, then it would be certain that that X-Man was in trouble of some kind. The screen clearly showed that all the X-Men were still in the game, which confirmed what Cyclops had reported.

"How are the prisoners?" asked Beast, "Our medical teams are all ready for any kind of casualty."

The was a brief pause on the other end of the signal, which the monitor showed as Cyclops looking over at something and away from this communicator. Beast's guess was that he was looking at the prisoners in order to determine what he should say about it. And from the look on his face, it was not going to be good.

Cyclops then looked back to the screen and to Beast. "_They've all taken some really bad beatings, Beast. Many of them are out of it, and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them have fractures or internal injuries. Either way, they're all in tough shape. We really need to get them to medical attention_."

Those words were the precise thing that Hank McCoy was expecting. And even though he was totally prepared for it, it was never something he enjoyed hearing. Henry McCoy was a brilliant scientist, which made him for a valuable asset to the Mutant/Human resistance, of which the X-Men AXT was the most powerful fighting force. But in addition, he was one of the best medical doctor and surgeon they had as well. Beast was a formidable opponent on the battlefield, but everyone had agreed that his intelligence and knowledge of science and medicine was his biggest and most valuable ability.

"I understand, Cyclops," Beast responded, "Are there any HKs in the surrounding area? We'd be putting our means of escape at risk if we having any of those _around."_

"_We're standing over three miles away from the compound," said Cyclops, "I think we should be safe from them. But we're still being careful. Even if only one of those things gets us in its sights, all the others will follow it straight to us_." Cyclops' warning was unnecessary, but Beast was grateful for him to be so attuned to the world and taking care to warn others of everything, just to be careful.

"Should we bring in the medical teams?" asked Beast.

Cyclops nodded over the screen. "_Yes, I'll have us start getting them out of the transport unit and to flat ground. We'll try to keep as low a profile as possible_."

Beast gave Cyclops a nod and a salute. Cyclops then deactivated the communications signal. Then next thing Best did was type in a series of commands on the terminal of the communications center. He needed to alert the other four Blackbird jets that were waiting in the dark desert night along with the one he was hiding in. Hiding. No, that wasn't right. Where he was WAITING.

The blue-furred scientist patched in a signal to Blackbird 2. Which was several hundred meters away from his. He was hoping that the person at the controls was still up and awake. Sometimes, thought hardly ever, people fell asleep on the job. No one did that purposely, but being a member of such a large movement could tire a person out more easily than other things could. He hoped that with this mission no one had taken time to close his or her eyes out of sheer mental and physical exhaustion.

"Blackbird 1 to Blackbird 2," said Beast, "Please come in."

"_Blackbird 2 here_," came a woman's voice on the other end. The voice of the mutant telepathic cyberpathic Sage, "_What's your status_?"

"I just received word from Cyclops that they're ready for us to come and collect the prisoners from the transport," said Beast, "We're going to have to use the new low-altitude magnetic propulsion units for this. Any high fling engine sounds will likely draw attention to us."

"_I understand, Beast_," said Sage, "_I'll notify Forge, Magneto, and Xavier of it at once. All my medical teams are standing by and are ready for action_."

"Acknowledged," said Beast, "Over and out."

Sage signed off.

Beast then took to the navigation and prolusion system control of his Blackbird. As he did so, Beast could help but compare these navigational control to those of the previously used SR-77 Blackbird. The differences he saw were so obvious, and not to mention so profound that he really didn't know how to describe how he felt about it, other than the fact it displayed the advancement from the previously obsolete X-Jet. This new model of Blackbird really put the other to shame.

As far as battle attack jets went, this new class, called the SRX-100 series, had it all. Like the pervious Blackbird jet it was fast, maneuverable, and had plenty of firepower to defend itself. But it had many upgrades as well. One was the triple-layer titanium steel alloy armor plating that surrounding its hull, capable of withstanding the impact of an antitank missile without being dented and molecularly altered to resist magnetism and electrical energy. In addition, this new SRX-100 Blackbird could travel at speeds in excess of 3000 miles an hour, making it twice as fast as the previous model, and over three times more maneuverable thanks to a sleek design, tri-fold wings and fins, and three propulsion engines powered by a miniature fusion generator at the back, even though it was over twice the size of the original X-Jet. And the greater size allowed for a larger medical bay to be installed as well, in addition to a larger bay for ground transportation.

And of course, weapons were big as well. This new type had powerful plasma cannons that fired tremendous bursts of destructive plasma energy that could easily destroy even the most heavily armored attack vehicle, a recently developed kinetic vibranium blaster that could shatter a mountain, and missile launchers that could sink a battleship. And for the ground-based enemies, there were several hatches on the underside that housed powerful explosive capsules that could level an entire office building in a single blast. All in all, if you needed a battle-ready plane, the SRX-100 Blackbird had all you needed. As Wolverine would say, "_the new and improved SRX-100. Takes a lickin' and keeps on kickin'_."

Beast gripped the steering control and typed in the commands for the main menu of the propulsion systems. Since each type of system on an SRX-100 was of multiple networks and portions, each one had a menu that could be accessed with ease. The propulsion systems were no exception, even though they were less complex than other systems on such a jet.

A blueprint diagram of the jet appeared on the screen Beast was studying from an overhead point of view. At the rear of the image was a symbol that was pointing to the three engines and their exhaust cylinders, which were flashing red. On the main body of the jet, as well as on the wings were several points colored green as well as several yellow points. Beast pressed the symbol that pointed to the multiple green points to select that certain propulsion system. As he did, the image changed from an overhead view of the jet to a side view, and the green points on this new image had what appeared to be green columns going to the ground all the way.

This new system had been the idea of both Charles Xavier and Eric Lensherr. It was a system that was a network of magnetic anti-gravitational propulsion units installed under the jet. It allowed the plane to move across terrain very close to ground, as close as twenty feet using specialized magnetic pulse beams to keep it suspended in the air, like invisible legs. It they wanted to move the Blackbirds into the valley to pick up the prisoners, they had to do that with as little noise as possible, and this was perfect system for that. That way, the HKs wouldn't detect them and the human guards on duty at the compound would never hear the engines.

Beast looked up to take in the ground he was about to take this machine over. He needed to do this carefully, for the slightest mistake of judgment could crash the jet. Still looking ahead, he pressed the command button on the console to activate the system. At that same instant, the magnetic field generators powered up and the jet suddenly lifted up several feet into the air.

Seconds later, the magnetic anti-gravitational systems of the other jets not too far away fired up as well.

* * *

Meanwhile, down in the valley, still a good distance away from the Nevada Compound, the X-Men AXT, were all standing together in their group and were carefully observing the transport vehicle that was standing before them on the rugged ground of the desert valley. All around the humans soldiers were lying unconscious and totally out of action, their weapons melted, frozen, bent, slashed, or utterly destroyed, and the hoverbikes wrecked beyond use for anything other than spare components. Soon the Blackbirds would be hovering in on their magnetic fields to quietly settle down to pick up the prisoners. But first things first. They needed to get them out of there in order for that to happen. 

Scott turned to Kitty Pryde, who was currently exchanging a few words with Piotr. "Hey, Shadowcat," said Scott.

Kitty turned to face Scott again, turning away from her massively muscled boyfriend, who was still in his organic steel form. For some reason or another, Colossus preferred to remain in his steel form with the invulnerability and strength that came along with it should he need to use it, or the latest power he had acquired from his "upgrades." "Yeah, Cyclops?" asked the petite brunette, her long brown hair blowing in the desert breeze. She no longer wore it in a ponytail like she used to and now simply let it hang in long locks past her shoulders.

"We need to get those prisoners out of there ASAP," said Scott, "So we're going to need a way of getting them out now. Care to help us out with that?"

Kitty didn't even have to think twice about what Scott was referring to. "No problem, Cyclops," she said, smiling now that it was her turn for some major action. Piotr merely smiled at Kitty, knowing he loved to do this sort of thing.

"Do your thing, Katya," he said, naming Kitty with the nickname he had given her all that time ago.

Kitty merely nodded to him and then looked back to Scott and the others. "All you big guys may want to start getting ready to carry," she said, "Cause we're going to need some of that in a second." No one really answered that, but several of the male members, especially Wolverine, Gambit, Bishop, and Nightcrawler got some smile on their faces indicating that they were ready to do some heavy lifting with their strength, and maybe, give a little show and display for their respective others.

Kitty looked to the large transport unit and then reached out it with her left hand. Her hand started to glow. Pulses of energy started to swirl around it as her eyes glowed with a silver-white aura. A beam of the slivered light sprang from her hand and struck the outer space age shielding of the holding trailer. The bizarre energies from Kitty's beam traveled all over the impenetrable material, the atomic structure of it starting to shift and change under the beams effects. Soon the entire structure was bathed in the silver light, and then the beam faded, though the silver-white light continued to surround the trailer.

Shadowcat looked back to the others who were ready to do their thing, her hand and eyes still glowing with the eerie silvery white light. "Go for it," she said.

Less than half a second later, everyone was hurrying towards the trailer prison, jumping over the fallen soldiers and battering away wrecked hoverbikes that were in their way. The first to reach the target was Wolverine. He leaped up and through the now intangible shield of material like it wasn't even there. Soon others were doing the same.

The stronger members of the team, were all lifting up prisoners and carrying them on their shoulders or in their arms, carrying them away two or three at a time. Phoenix and Psylocke both used their telekinesis to levitate several prisoners each, whom they judged to have severe internal injuries and thus were risky to carry over one's shoulder. Nightcrawler used his teleportation beams to instantly teleport away two, then four, then six, then eight prisoners away from the trailer. After less than five minutes of carrying levitating, and teleporting, the entire transport unit was feel of prisoners and was as empty as box. With that, Kitty let her powers fade, and the walls of the transport prisoner became solid and tangible once more.

"The Blackbirds should be arriving any second," said Ororo as she carefully bent down to check the pulse of a prisoner who was out cold and had a concussion, a large and severely swollen spot on his head. The pulse was weak but there, meaning this man was still in the world of the living.

"I should hope so, Ro," said Logan, "Cause I don't think I can stand smellin' spilt blood any more than I absolutely need to." Logan was carefully setting down a woman who was barely awake and had blood pouring from her nostrils and had a gash on her forehead that could only come from being slashed with a knife. His words were filled with a dark hatred that Ororo had seen very often in him, ever since they had started and organized the resistance. Logan had often told her of all the victims he had rescued from concentration camps during World War II. He had seen how cruel people could be. Whenever Logan thought of those times, he said that humanity was a mockery of itself. In cases like the Nazis, and like the enemy side of humans in this war, Ororo couldn't agree more with him on that. It was enough to make Ororo herself furious, which she tried to avoid lest her power rage out of control when her emotions were not held in check.

Rogue, who was currently using the absorbed and stored away telekinesis of Phoenix to carefully set down a few prisoners with broken limbs, suddenly saw the large shapes of the Blackbird jets coming down the sides of the cliffs. And it was that she saw them that she noticed them, not heard them. Everyone had been amazed at how silent the new magnetic propulsion systems were. Farther than twenty feet, the only them you could hear was a silent hum. Farther than fifty, and you heard nothing at all. It was the perfect tool to use to sneak a Blackbird over rough terrain silently. And Rogue was still amazed at how quiet it was.

"Takin' in the scenery there, Rogue?" asked Remy, carefully placing a wounded man down on his back.

"No," Rogue replied, "Just noticed the Blackbirds coming down." She pointed and Remy saw what she meant.

"As powerful as a tank and jet fighter combined, and yet as quiet as mouse. I like it," said Remy.

"Vhat I vould like to know is, vhich part do you like? Zhe "as powerful as a tank and jet fighter combined" part or the "quiet as a mouse" part?" asked Kurt, who still didn't understand Remy's personality after working with him for the better part of seven years.

"Just take you're pick, Homme," said Gambit, flashing Kurt that thief charm smile of his that he liked to use on Rogue when he wanted to make her romantic side rise up, "and that is the correct answer."

Kurt only shook his head, his long navy blue hair sweeping his shoulders. "I ztill don't get you, Remy," he said, sounding depressed that he didn't understand Gambit.

Remy only smiled at that. "Well, they call me 'Gambit' for more reasons than one. And one of those is that I'm mysterious. And if a gambit ain't mysterious to the opposing force, then it ain't a gambit at all. I gotta live up to my codename."

"Don't get too mysterious, Swamp Rat," said Rogue, a straight look on her strikingly beautiful face, "I don't like to be too caught off guard by the people I'm around."

Remy merely smiled again at that. "Not to worry, Rogue," you know I'd never do that," he said in sincerity, a voice he saved specifically for Rogue. Rogue heard his honesty and smiled at it, her green eyes bright with love atRemy. She couldn't resist blowing him a small kiss to signal her gratitude.

The Blackbird Jets were almost to their spots where they would set down to pick up the prisoners. All the X-Men gathered around the prisoners who were lying on the ground, either unconscious or too weak and malnourished to stand up. The Blackbirds presented an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Their sleek designs and formidable sets of wings gave them the aura of mammoth-sized robotic bird of prey, and their built-in arsenals and scanners were good metaphors for the hunting and killing tools of a hawk.

Landing struts began to emerge from the undersides of the Blackbirds, tripods of strong supporting limbs emerging from multiple points on the lower part of the main body and two more from each wing. The magnetic anti-gravitational propulsion units were emitting pulsating rays of yellow light from their emitters, the strong fields pushing the ground and jet away from each other.

The powerful magnetic beams started to weaken as the landing struts reached their fully extended positions, their clawed feet out and grasping the ground in a powerful electromachanical grip. As their five SRX-100s set down, the magnetic pulses of their low terrain propulsion eased off and finally vanished completely. Within seconds, they were quietly on the ground.

Hatches under the noses of each jet then opened. As each one leveled off on the ground, groups of people started to come out from them. They were the medics that the X-Men knew they would need after stopping the transport and rescuing the prisoners. After being on several missions to rescue prisoners and finding them beaten, weak, and tired every single time, it was finally decided that whenever a rescue mission was underway, medical care would be brought along for assistance. And with casualties on every type of mission, it soon became standard procedure to have medical care on every mission, regardless of what type it was.

The medics were both men and women. A few were mutants, while most of them were ordinary humans. In the resistance, there was the need for anyone who had a skill to put it to good use. Since there were many humans in the resistance who were skilled in the field of medicine, there were masses of field medics at their disposal. And not to mention, there was also the vast medical staffs they had at their hospital facilities back in St. Genosha. Being in a worldwide war, such services were a must in every case.

Soon the entire area was swarming with medics, carefully lifting the patients up onto structures and moving them to the medical bays on the SRX-100 Jets.

* * *

Gazing out into the darkness of the night, at the front gate of the Nevada Compound, the guards on duty patently waited for the headlights of Transport unit 7583. And waiting was something they hated. 

In such immense facilities like this that were stationed around the world, there was no real room for glitches in schedules. The next transport of prisoners and laborers was scheduled to arrive tonight at 2300 hours. But it was now fifteen minutes past the hour and still the transport unit had not arrived. Something was not going as planned.

Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good. Transport units were designed to be tough things to overtake. Unless mutants were involved. If mutants were involved, then there would definitely be a mass battle in order to take them down.

However, no HKs had spotted any activity in the surrounding area, and the dozens of searchlights mounted on the tall imprisoning wall surrounding the foundation of the Compound had not scratched any image out of the night. Unless the transport unit was having technical problems with its systems, mutants were involved. But in the meantime, there was nothing they could do without a sign or a precise assessment. And until the guards got it, they would have to remain on duty with only thoughts to keep them occupied.

* * *

The medical bays of the five SRX-100s were now filled with patients, and the free spaces on each jet were also in use for a resting area. The five pilots of the jets stood with the other X-Men AXT squad. All the prisoners were in care and onboard safely. The taken down human squads were still out cold and not going anywhere anytime soon. As for the X-Men themselves, they were more than ready to move on in the biggest way imaginable. And the next step of their mission would be the biggest step yet. But it would be far from the being the biggest of them all. 

Professor Charles Xavier, and his long-time friend turned enemy and then back again, Eric Lensherr, a.k.a. Magneto, stood side by side and carefully telling their pupils, and soldiers, what to expect for the next course of action. And seeing the two together was truly something that always made the X-Men AXT members feel up to doing anything.

Professor X and Magneto presented awesome and imposing, yet calming and sacred figures to those in the resistance. Both of them were mutants with extraordinary powers: Xavier, the greatest mind on the planet possessing the mightiest mental powers of any psychic mutant alive, and Magneto, the power to manipulate the planet's magnetic forces and control all metals and magnetism-related energies. Each were soldiers of experience in the field and were in extraordinarily good shape and had good muscle tone despite their advanced years. Both were scientists of the highest order, each being geniuses in the fields of genetics, robotics,and biology. And last but of course not least, they were also legendary generals and military leaders of the St. Genosha forces. Looking at these two men in their general outfits, their aura of power, wisdom, strength, and intelligence making them seem practically like gods made flesh, it was always immediatly clear that even the greatest conqouring generals in history of the world could not have presented more awe-inspiring sights than they could.

Charles Xavier, wearing a black outfit that also drapped down from his waist to his ankles like a long coat, with golden metallic gear on various points, which included protective torso plating as well as a golden belt and shoulder pads that bore the X-Men AXT identification logo, was now standing. After being modified like the rest of the X-Men AXT had been, Xavier was selected to serve as a hound, which the human teams had agreed he would be very good at thanks to his psionic powers. It had also been decided that keeping him a wheelchair would hinder his tracking abilities for some reason. Thus, a team of surgeons had expertly implanted a neural-stimulating implant in the recesses of his spinal column to provide electro-neural impulses to this lower extremities despite his severed spinal cord and fractured vertebrae. Now he was able to stand and walk like he had always dreamed. But since he had escaped, he was not using his powers as a hound, but as a teacher and leader like he always had been.

Eric Lensherr also looked different from the old days of X-Men vs. Brotherhood or Acolytes. He now wore a red suit instead of a black one, and now wore golden armor in place of red armor, along with golden gauntlets and golden all-terrain combat boots. And a black armor weave cape flowed form his strong shoulders, going down to his ankles like a shadow. And most of all, no telepathy-blocking helmet covered his skull, leaving his now longer pure white hair free. And like Xavier, he wore the X-Men AXT logo on the buckle of his belt.

Magneto stepped forward, a little ahead of Xavier, indicating he was about to speak. All the eyes of everyone; Cyclops, Phoenix, Storm, Bishop, Gambit, Rogue, Sage, Beast, Nightcrawler, Shadowcat, Forge, Wolverine, Mystique, Archangel, Psylocke, Colossus, the Scarlet Witch, Magma, and finally Iceman, all looked to him, awaiting his words.

"All right, everyone," said the master of magnetism, "we have successfully gotten all the wounded prisoners on board the Blackbirds. They're receiving medical care as we speak, and soon they will be on their way to St. Genosha where they will receive the best health care we can provide to them. The first part of our mission is complete, so now we must move forward."

Instructions for how to team up and who would do what were up next. Everyone had to know this part. Otherwise, chaos would ensure definitely.

"Right now, we are going to infiltrate the first Compound we have ever approached directly," said Magneto, "Our first task is to take down their security systems and surveillance, which will considerably increase our chances of successfully completing this mission." He turned to Sage, Mystique, Shadowcat, Nightcrawler, and Forge.

"Mystique, you will be the leading member of the infiltration group. Your shape-shifting will prove invaluable in getting to the computer system core undetected. Nightcrawler, you will use your teleportation to get them as close to the target systems as possible in the quickest amount of time."

Nightcrawler nodded in response. "I understand."

Magneto turned his attention to Forge, Shadowcat, Sage. "As our top cybertronic systems experts, it will be up to you three to disable the computer systems. Remember, you must do it in a way that will disable their weapons and automated defenses as much as possible, but also in a way that will draw the least amount of attention. The schematics provided by our spies and agents, told us of their systems having saboteur detection mechanisms that are set to detect any unauthorized tampering with the system."

Sage stepped forward at that point. "I can easily do that. Once I'm in a cyberpathic link their system after Forge has disabled their defenses, I can shut down all the systems hook up to the computer core."

Forge spoke next. "I can easily shut down those systems easily."

Shadowcat merely smiled, knowing she would need her computer expertise for this as well. And in addition, if the need arose, she could just phase through the systems to short them out. Magneto noticed that, but said nothing, since there were times when things left unsaid was best.

Magneto looked to Mystique to see if she had anything to say. "Just leave to getting guards out of the way to me," she said, smiling a little smug.

The next person to speak was Charles Xavier himself. Magneto and Xavier did their best to keep their leadership roles balanced. And usually, that resulted in them trading on and off with leading in the same situation.

"Excellent. Now, the rest of you will be the ones to get the prisoners free from the prisons, mining camps, and labs in the complex. There will be two groups, one will consist of Iceman, Magma Cyclops, Phoenix, Storm, and Wolverine."

Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Logan felt their mouths smile, mainly because they were each going to be with their respective others on this phase of the mission.

"They will infiltrate the genetic laboratory complex of the Compound. I understand that this specific compound is doing extensive involvement in the 'Hound Creation Program.' Therefore, in addition to taking out the lab and rescuing the prisoners, you must try to obtain all the data you have on their conditioning techniques and research. If we learned more about their research and conditioning, we will be able to come up with ways of helping mutant who are under that control break free. And that is something we must try to do."

Each and every face was silent with Xavier talking. They all had sort of lost their happy kid mood in this dark, violent time of history. Having a serious mood was pretty much the attitude one needed to keep up on his feet in times like this. Fun and games were gone. All things ere too serious to not take up all the care a person had. Even the normally free-spirited Bobby Drake was a lot more tuned into life now that he was seven years ago. War and fighting for freedom had effects on a person. Sometimes the worst circumstances brought out the best human qualities imaginable.

After giving his instructions to Magma, Iceman, Cyclops, Phoenix, Storm and Wolverine, Xavier looked at the remaining group, who consisted of all the other X-men who hadn't been mentioned before in either Magneto's or Xavier's instructions.

"The rest of you will be responsible for freeing the prisoners in the detention centers and mining complexes. Remember, your objective is to free the prisoners, but try to cause as little harm to the guards as possible."

"But how will we get all the prisoners out of there?" asked Magma, "From what we've herd, there are at least hundreds of them, if not thousands. And not to mention, we'll need to had some quick way of getting them out of there fast."

Xavier nodded to Amara's question. "I am glad you brought that up, Magma." He then turned to Magneto. "Magnus."

"What we need for you to do is to try to free as many prisoners at the same time in as locations as possible. With two teams in two different location in the Compound, and with a single team at the main security system core, the best course of action to follow is this. The locking mechanisms of the cells and the power source of the power dampening collars have a flaw in their mechanical design. If the circuitry is bypassed in the correct manner, then the cells and the collars will be deactivated, and opened at the precise same time."

"But what is that 'correct way?'" asked Shadowcat, "We don't know it."

Sage spoke up at that. "Not to worry," she said, "Once I'm in link with the system, I'll know every type of passage possible fro the circuitry to follow. Once I analyze them all, I'll know which one will both deactivate the collars and locks as well as open them."

"You sure about that, Sage?"

Sage only smiled and shrugged. "I've been in lots of cyberpathic links in my day. This one won't be too different, other than being a little more complex that others."

Shadowcat nodded, but couldn't help feeling a little uneasy.

"Now," said Magneto, "What will happen is this. Once the two teams have freed the prisoners, your task is to keep them safe and protected until you reach the main entrance to the Compound. We've already sent out word for a fleet of SRX-100s to be ready to take the prisoners and yourselves to safety once that is done."

"But how will they know?" asked Wolverine, "It's not just like we can yell out and they'll hear us."

Xavier stepped in once more. "I will be in close psychic contact with you all at all times while this is underway. When the time is right, just psychically contact me through thought, I will let the SRX-100 Squadron know that it is time. Once all the prisoners and yourselves are safely on board, the mission will be complete.

All the X-Men took in the information like a sponge. The atmosphere was tense with all of it going on. Everyone, even Wolverine and Bishop, who had the reputations of being among the bravest on the teams, or had the most guts and strongest backbones. Everyone was tense for the same reason. This was their first attempt at a Compound. Compounds were terrifying sights to behold, but more so inside than out. The weapons systems and hellish environments were like an advanced technological age for the Nazis. Nothing was really worth making a mistake over in that kind of environment. The slightest error could prove fatal.

But they also knew that this sort of thing was inevitable. The X-Men had all known that they would fight their way into one of these compounds from day one of this war. During conflicts, the highest-level targets, which housed the greatest goals and was protected by the deadliest forces, came into the game at some point sooner or later. But they came around and that was pretty much the end of it. However, it didn't ease the tension of going after a target like this at all. For they were sure that words and rumors didn't do Compounds justice.

"You have all done well so far," said Xavier, sensing their uneasiness, "I'm am impressed with your success so far on this mission. However, I must remind you that the next part of the mission will require extreme delicacy and care to perform, for this is the first time any of our teams would have infiltrated a Compound."

Xavier and Magneto had said specifically at the briefing for this mission that they would be on the teams as well, not as infiltrationists, but as overseers. Never before had their team gone up against a Compound, which was more heavily guarded that Fort Knox itself in every way, and had more security systems and weapons than an entire fleet of battleships. They had felt that it was only logical that they oversee the success of this mission, for if it didn't go a s planned, they would need to know what went wrong so that they could train their students how to overcome it.

"You are all about to set foot inside a Compound," Xavier continued with his last-minute debriefing before they went, "Remember, this is unlike any target we've yet attacked. The Compounds are legendary for their defense parameters and security, and not to mention the brutal nature of what happens to mutants inside their walls."

All the X-Men were silent, for they knew all too well what their two leaders were referring too. If "Hell on Earth" was a literal phrase, a Compound was the prime example of it.

"We have been fighting for the past seven years and this is going to be the biggest step we will make yet towards trying to stop this holocaust of human hatred against mutants and sympathetic humans who wish to share life on this planet with us," Xavier went on, "We have successfully stopped many plans, prevented new weapons against our side from being produced, and freed hundreds of thousands of prisoners from the humans prisons. But now, it's time to take our attempts to the next level."

Courage seemed to shine from each X-Man's eyes, the fear and tension being covered by the X-Men armor of courage and bravery. Xavier wasn't sure if that came up as a result of his words, or if it was merely when the X-Men chose to reveal it. Nevertheless, it never ceased to impress him how courageous these mutants had become.

Cyclops turned to face the entire group, his red eyes glowing with energy, and with determination. "Okay people, let's do this."

* * *

And there's the next chapter. Like I said, I'm sorry this took so long, but I've been so busy with school! I'm sorry about the wait! Up next is the attack on the Compound. Anyway, review if you read this, cause that's what I appreciate! 


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